Below City Streets
by Scotia Daniel
Summary: The world had fallen into the hands of the Mafia. And Fionna would never have thought that every step she took would sucker deeper and deeper into a deadly plan to assassinate the Godfather.
1. Home Sweet Home

**_"Our masters have not heard the people's voice for generations and it is much, much louder than they care to remember."_**

**_- Alan Moore, V for Vendetta_**

The only things that filled the heart of the subway car were Fionna and a man in his early twenties. The eighteen year old blonde girl swayed to the rhythm of the underground train as it looped below the streets of New York City.

Fionna hadn't expected anyone to be on the train so late in the night. Her shift at work had ended around two in the morning and she was more than familiar with riding the cars by herself at that hour.

During the long, hot days, the car would normally be packed tightly with bodies heading to work. The mobsters never took the subways. Never had to. They owned the streets and everyone knew that. The subways were for business men. For prostitutes. For children on their way to school and mothers running errands. But at night, the subway was hers. And that's why she was more than shocked to find herself with company on the carriage that night.

The man was tall and thin. His hair was as dark as the tinted glass of a mobster's car and eyes as blue as the skies were in her photography books at home. His skin screamed Italian: dark with an olive-like tone. Fionna guessed he spent much of his time outside amongst the riots and beatings.

The stranger hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees. A long dark trench coat hugged him like a possessive blanket. His button up white shirt was tucked into his ripped jeans and a pair of polished dress shoes stuck out from under his pants, a red tie hung loosely around his neck and a guitar case sat loyally beside his leg.

It took Fionna a minute to realize he was staring at her. Averting eye contact, she raised her eyes to the advertisements and graffiti that were engraved above the carriage seats. She analyzed the colors and each product the ads were trying to sell. It ranged from local food joints to adult entertainment, warning against the use of violence.

Peeking back at the man, Fionna was horrified to find him still staring at her from his seat. A smirk slowly spread across his handsome face and the blonde shifted her eyes to find something else to preoccupy herself with.

Fionna checked her watch. The sudden urge to get to her stop and go home overwhelmed her. She didn't have to look up to know that the man was still staring at her. The blonde could feel his gaze slide over her face, arms, legs, mentally undressing her to the point where she couldn't feel any more vulnerable than she already was.

The carriage jerked to a stop and Fionna stuck out her arm to keep herself from falling over. The man slid his fingers into the handle of his guitar case, stood up, and walked through the sliding doors. A sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips as the doors slid closed and the subway car resumed.

Fionna stared at the empty seat in front of her. The blonde's body swayed to and fro until finally the train pulled into her stop. Hoisting up her green back pack, the teen exited through the sliding doors and up the grimy cement steps.

The night air was cool and the lights of the city blinked like a thousand eyes. Fionna wished she had grabbed her jacket on her way out that evening. Her knit bunny hat, light blue t-shirt and dark blue shorts weren't helping to keep her warm now that fall was ending fast and winter was on its way.

The blonde picked up her feet and stuck close to the walls of the skyscrapers. Even though the moon was high in the sky, the cars sped by in the streets and crowds wandered the side walks. It really was a city that never slept.

Turning a corner, the Tree Fort nightclub came into view. Dashing across the crosswalk, Fionna approached the green painted building with neon lights. Making her way down an alley beside the building, the blonde slipped through a beaten up brown door.

Despite being in the back room, the club's atmosphere reeked of beer and cigarettes. Smoke crowded the air and Fionna's head throbbed lightly. She made her way into the club, sliding past drunks and druggies.

The club's DJ scratched away at his record player, a beat pulsing through the club and vibrating off of the walls and into the marrow of Fionna's bones. The teen inched her way to the corner and hoisted herself up next to the DJ.

Lorn Chrome, a thirty-two year old Latino man with long grey hair tied into a ponytail and light brown eyes, raised an eye brow at her but nodded upon recognizing his visitor. Fionna licked her dry lips and scanned the club. Turning back, she made eye contact with the man. "Where's my sister?"

Lorn brought his free hand up and signed to the girl. Nodding, Fionna inched her way back to the dance floor. Lorn had been born deaf and had been able to submerge himself into a world of lip reading. Most customers at the club would never have guessed that he couldn't hear the music he produced, but he didn't have to. Basing the music of the vibrations and people's reactions, Lorn was able to figure out the right beats and rhythms to produce to make the crowd happy. He never disappointed them for as long as he had worked there.

A flash of white hair caught Fionna's eye and she shoved through the crowd. Cathleen Venture, famously known as Cake, slid into the bar, filled one drink up after another. Fionna slid onto one of the bar stools.

Packed with curves and tanned skin, it wasn't hard for Fionna to understand why Cake was considered so beautiful amongst the regulars that came to the club. The woman had short, spiked white hair with strands of blonde highlights.

Cake glanced over her shoulder and proceeded to do a double take. A smile escaped her lips. She wiped off her hands with a towel and leaned up against the counter. "Hey, sugar. How was work?"

Fionna hopped off of the stool and entered the bar. She slid on an apron, tying it around her back. "It was okay. How's the club?" The blonde glanced at the sea of people. The stench of drugs and sweat overpowered her senses but she found the will to smile. Cake mixed another drink. "As much as I love managing this place, I can't wait for morning. No matter how hard Lorn and I try to keep the drugs out, they always manage to worn their way in." The tanned woman shook her head, hands on her hips. "But it comes with the apartment and brings in the cash. So I can't honestly complain."

The blonde nodded, sighing. She worked on drinks by the order until the sun peeked through the tinted windows of the club. Lorn cut the music as he and Fionna's sister worked on getting the clubbers out, dragging the drunks and drugged onto the sidewalk for the gangsters to take care of.

Locking the door, Cake rubbed at her brow and sighed. Fionna numbly cleaned the tables and bar. The smell had given her a horrible migraine and her vision blurred. Cake placed a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder, smiling. "Go on upstairs, sugar lumps. You've worked hard."

Fionna nodded, slipped her apron off and let it fall onto the counter for Cake to fold and put away. Her feet led her to a door in the back room. Opening it, cement steps greeted her. The blonde wanted to groan, but she just sucked in air and climbed the stairs.

The apartment wasn't the most extravagant thing in all of New York, but it wasn't run down. When Cake had bought the night club, the space was trashed with no hope of ever becoming something more than a dump. But now, the apartment was painted a beige colour with tree branch silhouettes and pictures of her, Cake, and Lorn throughout the years. The furniture was taken from dumps and pawn shops throughout NYC and cleaned up to be safe and clean for the small family.

Fionna's room was small but cozy. It was a place she could call home easily. The walls were yellow with cork boards and cut outs of far away places from magazines she had found over the years, pages from adventure books and numerous photographs taken with the camera Fionna had received for her birthday years ago when her parents were still alive.

The bed was just a mattress on the floor with sheets tossed everywhere. A single lamp sat beside the head of her bed and all of her books were piled in a corner of the room. One window sat on one of the four walls, giving Fionna a good view of the busy city. The shades were broken, allowing sun light and the light of the city to peek through at any time of the day, whether she liked it or not.

Slipping off her combat boots, Fionna plopped down onto the mattress and let the familiar smell of home wash over her. The sound of horns and cars bounced off of the city walls in a hypnotic lullaby. It didn't take long for her to fall into a deep slumber.

Her dreams came to her in wisps of smoke. It led her by the nose through a door where a beat echoed in her ears and formed the interior of her sister's nightclub. Prostitutes and pimps huddled along the walls, drunks and druggies scanned the crowds to find the life they had lost so long ago or for someone to spend the night with.

The bodies that seemed to melt together in lustful dancing hypnotized her as she walked through the dance floor. The beat seemed to tug at the revealing black dress she wore and the smoke beckoned to her like a familiar hand waving her over with its index finger. Her skin felt as if thousands of hands slid over her skin, stroking her hair and playing at the knitted bunny ears on her head.

She looked for Lorn, but the DJ was replaced with a mobster. He wore the typical white shirt and dress pants hung up by suspenders. His fedora blocked out his face, only revealing a hidden smirk. The faces of the people blurred and Fionna's head throbbed.

The smoke pulled her into the darkness of the back room. However, where the familiarity of dimmed lights used to be, broken light bulbs in abandoned sockets appeared instead. Fionna drank in the air like alcoholics consumed booze. Fionna heard her name. It came out as a faint whisper, a crackle of a leaf in autumn. She wanted to say Cake's name. To ask for Lorn. But her lips barely parted let alone trembled with the beginning vibrations of words.

Her world grew darker the more she walked. The smoke disappeared and the music faded. She turned, feeling as though someone was watching. The gaze seemed to undo the zipper in the back of her dress and tugged at the ponytail holder keeping her blonde locks up.

A light tapping sound emerged from the darkness. No, not tapping. It was the metallic ring of a coin being flipped. Once. Twice. Three times.

Fionna stepped in the direction of the sound. Click. Click. Flip. A dark figure sitting in an arm chair pierced her view: a silhouette of a man outlined by faint, non existent light. He brought his hand up, sticking what appeared to be a joint into his mouth. The echo of the coin flipping ceased as the man dug around in his pocket.

Taking out a lighter: the initials MLA were carved onto the lighter's side in careful cursive. Flipping the cap off, Fionna's eyes met with the hauntingly beautiful blue orbs of the man she had the pleasure of sitting across from in the subway carriage. Light chuckles haunted her ears as the eyes burned into the memory of her dream; her lungs filled with silent screams.


	2. Dog Eat Dog World

**_"The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which."_**

**_- George Orwell, Animal Farm_**

The states had fallen to the dogs. The Mafia rose when politics failed, gangsters and mobsters filled the shoes of lawyers, police, politicians and medics. Neighbors became one with the riots that slowly filled the streets, friends fell to the acts of violence in the rise of power as the streets were claimed by criminals as members of the Mafia injected themselves into the sources we trusted the most. As the years flew by, mobsters became political machines, taking the law into their own hands and destroying those who resisted. The presidents, no matter how hard they tried to turn things around, had no power when those who sat in congress were Mafia members themselves. The U.S didn't belong to the law. No, not anymore. The law belonged to the outlawed. And no one could do a thing about it.

Just like in any society, a leader was born. In the past, if one tried, they could've thrown themselves into the role with a strong enough fight. But now, to throw oneself into the heart of the Mafia was a death wish. Many had tried and all had been brutally murdered in broad daylight. Sometimes their deaths were broadcasted on televisions around the world. Mobsters claim it was purely for entertainment, but everyone knew it was to remind them of who was in charge. And no one forgot that.

Hunson Rossi was a thick man in his late forties. A handsome guy with a broad chin and thin line for lips, his name could be recognized not just in America but around the world. Everyone ranging from the elderly to infants knew his name. Even if they didn't know what he looked like, they didn't have to. When he walked into a room or appeared on the streets, the wave of importance radiated off of him like a natural cologne. Those who didn't know his face by heart could glance at him and piece together who he was in silent understanding.

Fionna had never had the pleasure of seeing or meeting Hunson face to face or even at a distance. The only time she had ever seen him was on T.V, in the newspaper, and in the history books at school. But she knew his face would forever be imbedded in her mind. The murderous look that glinted in his eye, the way his set jaw gave off a look of a sly smirk, the scars that splattered his face like an artists had splattered their canvas with paint. His eyes a cold grey that never reflected light in any of the photographs she saw of him. It was as though he honestly had no soul.

One would say Hunson was the boss of bosses, the leader of a corrupted country, the dictator of a once free nation. In a way, he was. He looked over all of the Mafia families and everyone reported to him. When rebellion against the Mafia was found, he was the one to shoot the rebells down. When negotiations needed to be made in foreign affairs, he was the one who stepped up. The blood spilled was on his hands, the economy and land belonged to him. He was the law. Anything he said was the word of God. And that's how it had been for years and how it will be for a long, long time.


	3. Passionless World

**_"The educated differ from the uneducated as much as the living differ from the dead."_**

**_― Aristotle_**

Fionna woke to the sound of gun shots echoing outside of her window. Groggily, she checked her alarm clock. Few minutes before the alarm was supposed to go off. She sighed, unplugging the device.

The sun fully peeked through her blinds, the light dancing around her room in a comforting waltz. It had only been an hour or two from the time she passed out till she woke up. The image of a large building popped into her mind: school.

Sighing, Fionna ran her fingers over the fabric of her shirt and shorts, ironing out the wrinkles that had formed. She tugged on her combat boots, fighting exhaustion.

The day was young and so was she. Her family had money rolling in and the mobsters stayed far away, even though they've had their eye on the club for a long time in hopes of shutting the place down. It wasn't exactly that they had a bone to pick with Cake, but the mobsters had always frowned on the money the small family brought in each time they opened and closed the club.

Families of the Mafia took pleasure in taxing each residence and business. For Cake, Fionna, and Lorn, they always had to pay large sums for the club and the apartment. Thankfully the club paid for itself, but there was always a silent fear floating amongst the small family when they ate breakfast and lunch, cleaned up the apartment and opened and closed the club each day.

Fionna tip toed through her door. The apartment was dead silent. The only sounds that radiated through the building were those of faint gun shots and murmuring from the streets below as crowds passed by.

The blonde slipped into the make shift kitchen and set the coffee maker for a cup and slid a piece of bread into the beat up tin toaster sitting on the wooden desk made counter. Soon, the smell of breakfast wafted into the air.

Cake and Lorn spent most of their time awake from dinner time to early morning. In order to keep up with their business, the couple found equilibrium in living in the dark and catching up on sleep the rest of the time as the world moved on around them.

At times, Fionna honestly pitied her sister and Lorn. It was hard enough living in a world where any day could be your last, but running a business at odd hours of the day and earning enough to bring food to the table and to keep a roof over their heads in such a world was harder.

The piece of bread popped out of the toaster, giving the teen a start. She silently laughed at herself and snatched up the piece of toast and grabbed her cup of coffee.

The city was packed with bustling people. Fionna hugged her food too her as she left the apartment for outside world. The men she passed wore suits, staring straight ahead with briefcases in hand. It wasn't rare for women to pass by, but the majority that weren't afraid to walk the streets were prostitutes. And most of the time they were seen clinging to pimps and gang members.

The skyscrapers loomed over everyone as though they were giants overlooking the law in a dormant sleep. It seemed that at any moment they would wake up and reap the world of it's chaos.

The subways were packed and it took Fionna an hour to get on a carriage. The warmth of the bodies pressed together gave the blonde an odd comfort as the air began to chill outside. Soon, she really would have to shed her shorts and t-shirt for something warmer. The only thing that popped into her mind were her only pair of jeans and an oversized sweater her best and only friend had given to her the Christmas prior.

The doors slid open and Fionna struggled her way out of the coach, up the concrete steps of the subway that led to a large, grey building.

The windows of South Long Beach High were broken and barred. It's walls contained mold and broken plaster, graffiti tattooed the building's exterior. A tall electric fence bordered the perimeter of the school.

Two men stood outside of the double doors of the building. They each held suited up Spectre M4s close to their bodies, eyes scanning the faces of everyone who passed by.

One of the men's eyes flickered on Fionna when she approached. Taking out her school ID, the man nodded, nudged his partner and let the blonde pass through.

Kids between twelve and nineteen sat along the walls of the school's halls. Some chatted, some slept, some ate a snack gingerly as they waited for classes to start.

It was rare for anyone to continue schooling past the age of eleven. Once a child was out of grade school and junior high, the child either had to begin work to make ends meet for their family or they fell to the corruption around them. One girl Fionna had known in middle school had dropped out before she could graduate the eight grade. The last time the blond saw her, the girl had switched out her sneakers for five inch high heels, jeans for a skirt that barely covered anything and the lacy sweaters her mother had sewn for her were lost to bras and see through shirts. Heavy make up padded her eyes and two men slung their arms around her. The girl couldn't look Fionna in the eye. It was a shame. She had so much potential.

The kids that sat before her were the few that risked their lives for an education. They were the scientists, the mathematicians. The inspiration and hope that the world desperately needed. And sadly, there weren't that many.

Fionna honestly didn't know why she continued going to school. Her future rested in the heart of the night club. But Cake insisted, just in case something were to happen to the building. The blonde understood her sister's reasoning. The Mafia were close to taking the night club away. It was only a matter of time where the price of drinks and the entry fee of the building would be too high for pedestrians and the place would lose business. If that were to happen, the three wouldn't be able to afford the cost of the apartment and night club. What would happen then?

Fionna shuddered and walked past a few sleeping kids and down the hall. Cork boards had been nailed to the walls with slips of paper containing information and torn up motivational posters. The walls had been decorated with paintings fish and other sea animals that had faded away with time. Some teens had taken the time to draw mustaches and vulgar images over the once cute creatures.

The door to the classroom was a dark brown with cracks running up and down its surface. A faint outline of the number "31" engraved in the top center of the door. The golden numbers that had once proudly declared the number of the classroom had been stolen at some point. Although, Fionna had no clue why someone would steal numbers. They weren't even real gold. But everyone is so desperate for something to give them food, the blonde guessed she could understand.

Fionna turned the knob and walked confidently into the classroom. The desks were empty and the only light glowed from a bulb hanging in the center of the class.

Bubba Gumball was a stalky man in his early twenties. A mop of curly red hair and piercing blue eyes popped out from his pale complexion; his skin radiated a light pink. Writing a chemical equation down on the board, the professor was sucked into the book he held in his free hand. When the door slammed shut behind Fionna, the young man jumped and rested his hand over his chest, sighing upon seeing who it was.

"Jesus! Fionna, you nearly scared me to death!"

Fionna lightly chuckled, walking deeper into the room and placing her green backpack on a desk.

"Sorry, Gumball. But this happens every time. You should just know it's me by now. Same routine as it's always been for the past four years."

Gumball nodded, red curls bobbing in place. "Right. Sorry. Old habits die hard I suppose."

Fionna walked over and jumped onto the stool beside him. "What's the lesson for today, professor?"

Gumball wiped his fingers onto the lab coat he wore, some chalk dust sticking to the palms of his hand. He looked over the chemical equation and flipped through the science textbook he held.

"I'm thinking we'll learn to balance equations today. However, none of my other classes seem to be able to grasp it."

He pursed his lips, lost in thought. Fionna looked over the equation on the board and cringed. She'd never admit it to the red head, but she despised science and math. She didn't get why geometry was so important, she'd never need to know the anatomy of an animal, and she definitely would never be using pi in her every day life. But her small, childish crush on the man led her to signing up for more classes over the years. In the end, maybe it would be worth it after all?

The door slammed open and some teenagers sauntered into the room and took their seats. Gumball checked his watch as the bell rang. Fionna hopped off of the stool and slid into her desk. The wood was gnarled with letters carved into it. The seat creaked underneath her.

Gumball opened up the class immediately, not afraid to explain the process and dive right into the problem on the board. Around her, one boy scribbled notes fiercely, another kid was fast asleep. Other kids took notes now and then, but stared off into space as they imagined living in a different world where mobsters and chaos ceased to exist.

Fionna herself tried desperately to pay attention, but most of what was thrown at her was lost in translation. Her own mind began to wander, leaving the school and entered the subway cars speeding away from New York. From the U.S. From life.

The blonde let her eyes wander down to her open textbook. She scribbled some notes, but after a frustrating few minutes, she realized she had no clue what she was doing. She didn't understand anything in front of her and she suddenly wondered why she was there. A degree wouldn't really get her anywhere. She could never afford college. There was no point in her being in that classroom when she could be working longer hours to help save her home. But looking back up at Gumball's excited, child like face, her heart thumped in her chest and a smile spread across her face. Fionna realized why she really decided to stay in the first place. Taking her pencil in her hand once more, she attempted to pay better attention as the man rambled on with passion in a passionless world.


	4. Close Call

_**"I don't trust society to protect us, I have no intention of placing my fate in the hands of men whose only qualification is that they managed to con a block of people to vote for them."**_

_**― Mario Puzo, The Godfather**_

The Tree Fort was surrounded by "do not cross" tape and numerous Mafia family members when Fionna came home from school. She pushed her way through the crowd of people and approached the yellow tape.

A mobster held up his hand and she swatted it away. "What the hell is going on here?" The mobster frowned and put the butt of his gun up to her shoulder. "Respect your authority, girl."

A flash of white hair caught the blonde's eyes and she shoved the butt away, diving under the tape and past the mobster.

"Hey!"

"Cake!" Fionna darted for her sister, hand outstretched. The mobster caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Let go!" She struggled in his grasp as another mobster grabbed her wrists. She sucked in air and shrieked. "Cake!"

"Let her go!" Cake held her hands on her hips and glared down the two men. The mobsters dropped Fionna and the blonde flew into her sister's open arms.

"Cake! What's going on?" Deep down Fionna knew the answer, but she had to hear it for herself. Cake played with the girl's hair, sighing. "Baby, we can't afford the tax this time." Fionna tightened her grasp on her sister's overalls.

Fionna licked her chapped lips. "What's going to happen to us, Cake?" She felt her sister inhale deeply. "I don't know, baby. I don't know. Lorn and I will have to find other jobs. And soon."

The crowd parted for a tall man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and piercing brown eyes. His suit was pure white with a tie that looked as though it had been made of lace.

The mobsters untied the tape, allowing the man to enter. He approached the young women with a confident stride and a hint of snobbery on his face.

Fionna watched the man overlook the club, her, and then Cake. His eyes were so dark, light didn't reflect in them, giving the blonde teen a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

He took out a crimson handkerchief from his breast pocket and carefully dabbed it against his temple. He slipped the piece of cloth back in with such care, Fionna couldn't believe the man was real.

The man open his mouth and inhaled. "Hello, ladies. I presume you are Cake?" He nodded at the eldest of the two. Cake nodded, forcing a smile onto her face.

"I...hear that you cannot pay our tax? Is that true?" The sweetness in his voice was so sickly it made Fionna want to hurl. Cake rubbed the blonde's shoulders. When had they tensed?

"Yes, it's true. But only by a hundred dollars." The man tisked and shook his head gently. "That's a shame." He reached his hand out and gently touched the wall of the club. "It's such a decent club. Oh well."

"It's only a hundred dollars. Couldn't you just cut us some slack?" Fionna surprised herself. She hadn't meant to shout the sentence out. It just slipped. Cake's face drained of colour and Fionna gasped. She began to bring her hands up but decided to stand her ground.

Surprise painted the man's face. He scanned Fionna, a smirk beginning to appear on his lips. He chuckled and lightly scratched at his nose. "Brave. And dumb. I should shoot you for that." Cake squeezed Fionna's shoulders so tightly, she knew she'd have marks on her skin later. "But I won't."

The man snapped and a mobster slipped a cigar into his gloved hand and lit it. He sucked on the cancer stick and blew out the smoke onto Fionna's face. He glanced lazily at Cake and a smug smile tugged on his lips.

"I'll tell you what, I'll give you until tomorrow to cough up the extra bucks you need. If you don't, the place is mine. You got that, toots?"

It took everything Fionna had to keep in her squeal of delight. Cake nodded, hiding her smile. "Thank you, sir." The man nodded. "Kiss the Gambino family's hand in thanks." He turned and walked back to the tape. A mobster opened the tape for him once more and his shiny blonde hair disappeared into the crowd of people.

Cake tugged Fionna into the tightest hug she had ever received. The two women jumped up and down, letting out an audible squeal. After their happiness died down, Cake slapped the blonde's shoulder lightly.

"What was that for?" Fionna rubbed at the spot. It hadn't hurt, but it ruined the mood for her. Cake placed her hands on her hips and scowled. "That was risky, sugar lumps. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. Please be more careful from now on. You're lucky he was just a consigliere."

Fionna nodded, watching the gangsters move out and clean up the tape. "I'll be more careful." Her words came out in a muffled mumble, but Cake seemed pleased enough. She led the blonde through the alley and into the building.

Night was barely piercing the city's horizon. The smell of dinner slapped Fionna in the face as soon as she and Cake set foot into the apartment.

Lorn busily breaded raw chicken in a pan with rice. The latino slipped the food into the oven, took out a sponge and scrubbed at the food remains, whistling off key as he worked.

Cake chuckled, walking over to the dark man and took his arm. The whistling ceased as Lorn looked over his shoulder at her. His eyes quickly filled with worry, but Cake smiled and held up her hand, signing. The Latino picked the woman up and spun her around. Cake clung to him, laughing.

Fionna smiled at the two. Times like those made her realize how much she truly cherished their family. Small, but cozy. Years ago, when Fionna was a small child, her and Cake's parents had been killed in a riot that broke out where they worked. Cake, who was in her late teens at the time, took on the responsibility left behind. She forced Fionna to continue getting dressed and go to school, found herself a job, and took a risk by spending what they had in her savings to buy the nightclub. It was pure luck it came with the apartment as well.

Cake had met Lorn when they were in their early teens. They instantly connected and it didn't take long for them to fall hopelessly in love. The tanned woman had had many suitors but no one could speak their love for her louder than the mute and deaf man that swept her off her feet with love and dedication to not just her but Fionna as well. In a way, Fionna looked to Lorn and Cake as the parents she missed. With each passing year, the blonde slowly forgot about her parents. What they looked like, their personalities, her mother's perfume. Now and then something would trigger a memory, but all was lost. Just like the life they had left behind to start the one they were familiar with right then and there in the kitchen.

The man set Cake down and they lightly kissed. Fionna slipped into the bathroom, washed her hands and face in the sink and looked herself over in the cracked mirror. Bringing her hand to the glass, she silently outlined her features.

Fionna's blonde bangs were brushed to the side of her face. The shorter strands stuck out but were held in place with a plastic sword hair clip. The rest of her hair was pinned up inside of the knitted bunny eared cap her mother had made her when she was a child.

The teen wouldn't call herself ugly, but there were a lot of things about her that she'd gladly change. She hated her button nose and how easily her skin flushed. The only feature she could honestly like were her eyes. Bright with flecks of green, Fionna wouldn't trade her eyes for the world.

The blonde's hand dipped down past her reflection's neck, over her breasts and to her stomach. Fionna and her family were lucky enough to afford to put food in their stomachs each day. The teen was more than used to walking along the street and finding someone dead from starvation. The price of food shot up each month. At times, Fionna and Cake would have to sell something in order to bring in the proper source of protein they needed. Meat, vegetables, fruits, bread...they only spent on what they needed. Only when a birthday came around did the three dare buy a piece of chocolate to celebrate with. But the teen hated how her ribs poked out of her skin. The protection of her shirt was the only thing that prevented the world from knowing she was a starving child.

Fionna exited the bathroom and reentered the kitchen. Cake set the table with cracked plates and rusted silverware. Lorn cooled down the chicken, digging through the mini fridge for something to drink. He took out three small bottles of water and placed them beside the plates.

The three sat down and held hands. "Thank you Father for another glorious day to be alive. Thank you for the food on our plates and the love in our hearts as we survive another night. Please watch over us as we struggle to keep our home. Amen." Fionna let her hands drop once Cake said grace and shoveled the steaming food into her mouth. The chicken burned the tender flesh of her inner cheeks, but the meat couldn't taste any sweeter. Once the chicken was gone, the rice disappeared just as quickly.

Cake took the dishes and rinsed them in the sink. Lorn dried them and slipped them into the book shelf they used to store the dinnerware.

Fionna walked into her room. The living quarters were now dark minus the glow peeking through the shutters from the lights of the night life. She plopped down on the mattress, sighing. The lights played against the wall in a sickening shadow puppet show. The night has just begun and the vibrations from the club shivered up and down her form. Peeking through what she could of the blinds, Fionna knew morning couldn't come again soon enough.


	5. Cold Responsibilities

**_"The Extreme always seems to make an impression."_**

**_-Christian Slater, Heathers_**

The Fire Kingdom was honestly no place for a young woman. But it paid well and Fionna couldn't complain. As she walked up to the building, the cool night air crept up her exposed legs like icy fingers. Her black shorts rode up as much as Fionna would allow them, the tight tank top she wore exposed more cleavage than Fionna thought was possible, goosebumps littered her arms and bare skin from the chilly autumn air.

The restaurant was tucked in between a large skyscraper and small office building along a one way street. From a distance, one could mistaken the restaurant for an antique shop or a misplaced home that belonged in the country. The lights on the outside flickered occasionally, the windows were tinted and boarded up.

The place belonged to Fabian Preston, a fiery redhead with a temper to match. The man was barely older than Fionna but held the keys to the most popular bar and eatery for mobsters in all of New York. In a way, Fionna admired him for that. In another, he could rot in hell. He paid his workers well but treated them poorly. The girls were forced to wear high heels and tight clothing that grew incredibly uncomfortable when autumn and winter arrived. The only good thing about the place was that the heater still worked and Fabian loved to keep it as warm as he could make it without it being unbearable.

That night, the lights in the restaurant were low and smoke filled the air. Fionna rushed from table to table, taking orders and delivering food. When she had first gotten the job, she barely could shuffle in the height of the heels given to her. The heels were the least of her problems now that she had mastered them and moved on to the constant harassment of the crude mobsters that ate there. Fionna couldn't count how many times a customer had slapped or pinched her bum when she bent down, made a sexual comment about her top, or given her an extra tip in hopes that they could take her home with them. She never did leave. Or let them touch her for that matter.

Despite Fabian having his moments of greed and unfair treatment, he never let the gang members treat his staff like prostitutes. If they wished to do anything other than enjoying the view from the tables, it'd have to be outside of restaurant hours. Once the eatery closed, whatever happened to his staff was none of his business.

Fionna delivered drinks to a table and moved onto a booth waiting to have their order taken. The blonde inhaled and plastered a smile on her face, a pad of paper in her hand. She fished for a pen and walked up to the booth.

"Hey, welcome to the Fire Kingdom. I'm Fionna and here to make your evening sizzling. What can I get for y'all?" The blonde had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep a smile and hold back a gasp.

The man's platinum blonde hair seemed darker in the dimmed lights, his eyes sucking her in like a black hole. Four girls glued themselves to his side, his arms draped around their shoulders.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, look who it is!" The man sneered at her and he girls giggled beside him giggled. Fionna felt her face grow crimson. She swallowed, continuing to smile. "What can I get for you, sir?"

The man chuckled and looked over the menu. He flopped it down, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and slipping it into his mouth. "Just bring out some fried zucchini and the house special." Fionna nodded, scribbling the order down. "Will that be all?" The man nodded. "For now."

Fionna slipped away from the man that was out to steal her home and posted the order on a tack above the chef's window. A hand stuck out a minute later, taking the slip of paper.

The blonde preoccupied her time delivering drinks and food to other tables, avoiding the booth with the blonde man in the white suit as much as she physically could. His order sat obediently for Fionna when she came back to the counter.

Inhaling, the girl took the tray and walked over to the booth, a smile slowly spreading on her face. She hated the numb feeling that had grown in her cheeks.

The man's eyes fell onto Fionna's as she approached the table. She averted eye contact, placing the drinks in front of each of the customers and the basket of food where each one of them could reach it.

"Will that be all?"

The man inhaled his now lit cigarette. "For now, toots. For now." He reached over and took a zucchini. Fionna turned to leave. A strong hand grasped her wrist.

"Actually, there is something else I want." Fionna gulped and turned around, her smile failing. "Yes?" The man reached his hand over to the candle, placing a finger as close to the flame as he could and brought the hand to Fionna's wrist.

A searing pain shot up Fionna's arm and a small whimper escaped her lips. The man let her wrist go and Fionna hugged it to her chest. A fancy "G" had been etched into her skin in a pink burn. The skin had become numb. The blonde's blue eyes fell to the man in horror.

The man flicked his cigarette towards her, the cancer stick missed by a long shot. Fionna felt her lips tremble in confusion and gazed at the ring the man had used to mark her with.

A chuckle escaped from the henchman. "Your family may have won this round, sweet cheeks. But you will be ours." The girls giggled and he kissed one on the top of the head. Fionna darted from the booth and into the employee bathroom, running cold water over the skin. Steam rose and the girl inhaled to keep from making a sound as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Fionna thought about taking the assault to her boss. No, that wouldn't work. Even if he did step in, the affair would still occur outside of the eatery. Come tomorrow, the man would still be there. Waiting.

She turned the water off, dried the area and searched for bandages in the first aid kid Fabian kept in the cabinet above the sink. To Fionna's disappointment, the beat up white container ceased to contain anything to hide the burn with.

Backtracking to the locker she obtained in the employee lounge, Fionna took out her shirt and ran her fingers over the fabric. She inhaled and ripped the fabric, tying the piece around the burnt flesh. She knotted it and swatted her hand, making sure the piece would stay put. It did.

Landon Star Pepperdine floated into the room soundlessly. A twenty year old black man with light facial hair, short curly locks on his head and wore a white shirt and purple pants held up by matching suspenders. Landon, famously called LSP at work, was on the chubby side and a loyal friend to everyone that worked at the Fire Kingdom. The booming of LSP's voice shook Fionna back to reality.

"Fionna, is everything alright?" A chubby hand was placed on her shoulder and the blonde inhaled.

"Yeah, I'm fine LSP. I just need a moment." The chubby hand gave her shoulder a squeeze and let go. "Boss wants to see you. He says to come whenever you're free." Fionna swallowed and nodded. "Want me to send Stacey out for your section while you talk?"

Fionna turned around and smiled weakly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, LSP. I owe ya one." The man smiled and nodded. He strode out of the room and suddenly the blonde longed for his company. Or at least someone to tell her that things would be alright.

Sucking in air, the blonde closed her locker and walked down the hallway to a set of stairs. She climbed each step, feeling the beat of her heart increase as she ascended the steps to the next floor.

The second floor was dark with a semi-long hallway with one door leading to the closet, another to what Fionna presumed the bathroom, a latch on the ceiling that led to the building's attic and double doors that housed her boss. She knocked on Fabian's door, feeling the weight of the wood against her knuckles.

Shuffling was heard on the other side before a strong voice was heard muffled through the wood. "Come in."

Fionna turned the cool knob in her good hand and let the door swing open.

Fabian sat in a cushy purple office chair, feet propped up on the desk and fiddled with a deck of cards. He looked up and a smile formed on his face.

"Hey, Fionna. Close the door, will ya?"

Fionna closed the door behind her. "Anything you need, boss?" Fabian swung his feet down off of the desk, setting the cards down and leaning on his hands to look up at her.

"Do you have plans tonight at all?"

A blush crept across her face and she felt around her mind for an answer. Should she lie? A million thoughts passed in that instant, making the blonde feel dizzy.

"Not really, sir. No. Just going home."

The red head nodded. "Would you mind locking up the place for tonight? You're the most trustworthy worker in this place besides LSP and I need to get going earlier than usual. I'm sorry if it's too much. I could always get someone else to do it."

"No, no! No trouble at all!" Fionna gave the man a reassuring smile as the red leaked from her face. Fabian smiled at his worker, opened up a drawer and fished through it. A minute later, a small silver key sat in his hand. He reached over and slipped it into Fionna's fingers. The teen flipped the piece of metal a few times in her palm, welcoming the coolness.

"I'll be leaving in half an hour. LSP has a key to open the restaurant tomorrow. Place the closing sign up around 2:15 to prevent more customers from entering. Kick out anyone who's still around at 2:30 and put the chairs up on the tables. Think you can handle that?"

Fionna smiled and nodded.

"Good." Fabian propped his feet back up onto the desk. "You can get back to work. Thanks for everything, blondie." Fionna waved and left, closing the door behind her. She slipped the metal into her bra and reentered the heart of the restaurant, feeling the cold responsibility against her chest and the heat of danger on her hand.


	6. Choices

**_"Men go to far greater lengths to avoid what they fear than to obtain what they desire."_**

**_― Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code_**

Rain had begun to fall when Fionna finished placing the last of the chairs onto the tables. The blonde wiped at her brow and slumped against a wall. It had taken her half an hour to place all the chairs on the tables and another half an hour to clean the tables and sweep the floors. Her muscles pulsed within her.

Climbing the stairs to Fabian's office, Fionna slipped through the double doors and placed the silver key on the messy desk. She quickly glanced at the papers. Everything seemed to be mainly things for the eatery. A small picture sat among the mess. She picked up one. It was of him and his mother. Her hair was long and red, almost as bright as her son's. A young Fabian smiled up at her and the blonde felt her lips twitch.

A faint thump was heard and Fionna dropped the picture. The papers broke it's fall but a light crack penetrated the glass's surface.

The teen froze, listening in the building. Silence buzzed through out the restaurant and the girl relaxed. Tip toeing towards the door, a small shuffle was heard.

Fionna froze in place, straining her ears, willing them to pick up the impossible. Silence replaced the noise once more and the blonde poked her head out into the dark hallway.

She breathed in the quietness, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. Fionna gently closed the door. The light click as it shut startled the teen and she placed her hand over her heart and name tag, breathing heavily.

The girl stood there, letting the flutter of her heart calm down to an irritated beat. Above her, the sound of floor boards squeaking penetrated her ears.

Fionna placed her hand on the wall and slowly inched to the end of the hall. She scanned the ceiling, searching for something but finding nothing. The building moaned in silence. A moment later, light footsteps were heard walking away from the attic's entrance.

The blonde stared at the small square door leading to the attic, down the hallway to the stairs and back to the attic. Fionna knew she should just leave. Or call Fabian. But she felt as though if she were to do either of those she'd be failing her responsibilities.

Fionna grabbed a stray fold up chair and placed it directly under the attic's entrance. She stepped on it, hearing the ungodly groan of the metal underneath her.

Her fingers brushed the latch. But at 5'1, the girl barely reached the door. She stood on the toes of her heels and reached, slipping a finger into the latch and lifted up.

Fionna struggled to peek in, placing both hands into the crack of the door. The metal chair groaned underneath her once more and gave out. The blonde suspended there, looking down in horror at the chair. The rusty metal beckoned for her to fall so it could claim her. She looked up at the crack her fingers were in and it seemed to mock her. "What's worse?" It seemed to say. "Falling onto metal and suffer a slow and painful death? Or climb into unknown territory with a possible intruder that could have you any way they want? You decide."

The blonde knew it wasn't an option. She slipped one arm into the crack, then the next, pulling herself up to where she slid through the door, her lower half still sticking out of the entrance.

Fionna waited to be shot. To have something hit her over her head or for chloroform to be placed over her mouth. But nothing came.

Peeking one eye open, the blonde was met with a well lit, empty room. She hoisted the rest of her body in, letting the door slide shut noiselessly.

The attic was surprisingly warm with candles placed everywhere. Wax dripped to the floor and melted the candles into their place. Boxes littered the sides of the attic's walls, the center cleaned with a wooden table placed in the middle.

After a moment, Fionna found the courage to stand up. She glanced around the room, waiting for someone, anyone to pop out. No one did. She tip toed over to the wooden table. Papers were scattered in a cluttered mess. The handwriting was printed neatly and she tried to make sense of what she was reading. Pictures littered some of the papers of weapons and maps at different angles of an abandoned apartment complex beside a fancy hotel.

The blonde flipped open a folder, letting her guard completely down. The stern face of Pablo Rossi stared back at her. A man with a large nose and wrinkly face, Pablo was one of the bigger names of the Mafia families that riddled the states. An older man with no legacy, he was notorious for the violence he used to obtain his title of mayor for NYC. Killing anyone who openly admitted they voted against him, Pablo was a political machine that reigned for far too long. Whenever election day came around, his opponents always either mysteriously dropped out with no explanation or were found dead in their homes.

Fionna remembered the picture that had come out in the news years ago of Ronald Wilson who had been found completely poisoned in his bathtub the day of elections. But why would there be a file on him in a place like this?

She flipped through more of the papers and a sinking realization hit her. This was an assassination plan. The fancy building wasn't a hotel, it was the Rossi residence.

The sound of a window opening started Fionna back to reality, letting the front of the folder drop back into place. A grunt was heard of someone entering and the blonde gave herself whiplash looking for a secure hiding spot.

The teen's eyes fell on an old red wardrobe pushed up against the wall. She raced to the piece of furniture, opened it up and slid in, closing the door behind her. Fionna was more than thankful that there were no clothes or items stored inside, giving her room to breathe and have space for her arms and legs.

Footsteps grew louder and stopped. Papers shuffled and the intruder cleared their throat, letting out a small cough. Fionna heard the intruder suck in air in a rasp gasp and she brought her hand up over her heart to play with her name tag to calm her nerves.

Her fingers grazed fabric and the teen froze in horror. She felt her tank top. Nothing but cloth. Loud crashing filled the room in a sudden boom and Fionna had to keep herself from gasping or crying out. She slide closer to the back of the wardrobe, tears overflowing her eyes.

The crashing ceased and she knew the intruder was staring at the wardrobe. Their eyes bore into the wood and Fionna shut her own, praying to whatever force was out there that they'd look elsewhere.

Footsteps thundered to the wardrobe and the door was thrown open. Light blinded the teen as big hands grasped her and pulled her out.

A scream rose from her lungs and a hand covered her mouth. Her body hit the ground as the intruder got a better grasp on her and Fionna took the moment to bite their hand.

The voice of a man yelled "ouch!" and pulled his hand away. Fionna darted for the attic door. She bent down to open the square but large arms circled her body. The grip crushed her ribs and Fionna let out a loud whimper.

"Please let go!" She moved to elbow him in the stomach but his arms pinned her body in place. He tossed her away from the door and Fionna toppled into table, head hitting the leg of the furniture. She laid there, pain building up in her skull. A liquid dribbled through her hair.

Glancing up, Fionna's eyes connected with the electric blue ones of the man from the subway. Her lips parted in surprise. His eyes scanned her in pure anger, Fionna's name tag rested in his gloved hands. The bunny sticker on it threatening to peel off.

His hair puffed out in an organized mess, a nine o'clock shadow painted the lower half of his face. Light bags sat underneath his eyes and Fionna wanted to reach out to him. Would he remember her? Considering how he looked at her, he didn't.

The man licked his lips, thinking. "How much did you see?" Fionna shook her head slowly. "I swear I won't tell anyone. Please, I want to go home." She meant to sound strong, but her voice cracked and came out as a whisper.

His blue eyes flickered to the door and back at her. Fionna felt blood trickle down her temple. "Is anyone else here with you?" The blonde's lips moved but no sound came out. Her arms trembled beneath her weight.

The man lifted his foot and Fionna squeezed her eyes shut. He kicked the table down, the flame on some candles going out. "Answer me!"

Fionna dug her head into her arms, letting out a soft sob. The intruder bent down and lifted her head up in his large hand. "Is there anyone else here." Fionna opened and closed her mouth. Realizing words wouldn't form, she shook her head.

The man let her head drop back to her arms. He squatted there, his thoughts burrowing into the knocked over table and scattered papers. He ran a hand through his hair.

Slipping his arms around Fionna, he hoisted her up and onto her feet. The blonde wanted to drop back down to the ground. Her head spun and all she could think about was "home."

"Come on." His voice was low but rough. He half led half dragged Fionna to a small window hidden behind a pile of boxes. He lifted it open. Fat raindrops greeted their clothes and faces as a cool gust of wind slithered past the two and blew out most of the candles.

The man stuck one leg out, than the other. He slid through, poking his arm in and took her hand in his. Fionna glanced back at the attic, tears streamed down her face. The masculine hand in hers gave her arm an impatient tug. She kissed the warm attic goodbye, sticking one leg out and then the other.

The night sky had been blotched out with inky clouds. The rain poured down hard, instantly soaking Fionna and the man.

Fionna watched the intruder bring his arm up to block out the mist from the storm. He tugged on her hand, leading her to the roof's edge. He bent down, taking a long piece of wood and tossing the other end to meet the ledge of the office building next door.

The blonde was led forward and positioned before the board. She peered over the ledge, three stories down to the concrete below. Fionna dared to attempt to take a step back. The man's hands were placed on her hips and hot breath tickled her ear. "Cross."

The teen eyed the aged board. Splinters stuck out at places and dark patches made her wonder if it was apart of the wood or if the piece had molded.

Fionna lifted her foot to step onto the ledge but nearly tripped thanks to her heels. The man sighed behind her, swinging her arm around him and lifting her enough off the ground where he could reach her feet. He tugged the heels off and threw them to the ground below.

Stockinged feet met the soaked board and Fionna gasped. She shivered but stepped forward, lifting her hands to her chest for better balance.

The board wasn't small, but it sure wasn't wid either. It was big enough where one didn't have to worry about where they were stepping, but at that moment, Fionna could barely see where she was going.

The wood was painted dark by the night and she had to feel her way along its length. Her toe met with a splinter a quarter of the way across. She inhaled, bending down to get a better grip on the board. Once she felt the pain was tolerable enough, she stood up and took another step.

A creak moaned up to her, tugging at her heart and a shiver raced through her being. Fiona heard the man swear. The smacking of his shoes hitting the board filled her senses as he grabbed her by the waist, pulled her up, ran the rest of the way across just as the board split in half. He jumped and he turned in time for him to cushion their impact on the roof of the office building.

The two rolled and Fionna clung to the man's trench coat. When they stopped tumbling, the blonde couldn't find the courage to let go of the fabric. Her knuckles had grown white and she shivered from both the freezing rain and shock.

The man didn't budge and Fionna began to wonder if he had been knocked out. Should she run? Find help? His warm breath stroked her neck and she shuddered. His left arm untangled from her and he propped himself up, looking over at the gap between the buildings.

Sliding his other arm from around the blonde, the man lifted himself up, tilting his head to the side, cracking his neck. He glanced down at Fionna, took her arm and dragged her up.

Not bothering to waste any time, Fionna was led down the building, through alley ways and the rain until they came to a small, red bricked abandoned apartment complex. The windows were boarded up and gang signs had been painted on the sides of the building.

The man led her up the stairs to the top floor. He came to the only room with a green door, looked both ways down the hall, shoved Fionna in and locked the door behind himself.

The space was a one room flat, a beat up mattress with sheets pushed up against the wall between two windows that had been sealed up. A kitchen raided on corner with aged black and white checkered tile, pots and pans stacked in the sink.

The man gave Fionna a light shove and she stumbled forward, falling to her knees and hands before the bed. Pain shot through her and her head felt heavy.

"You have thirty seconds to tell me who you're working for." He slid off his trench coat and flung it over a wooden chair. A tank top hugged his muscled torso.

"Fabian Preston."

The man kicked over a small trash container. "No, who you're REALLY working for." He stuck his hand inside a drawer in the kitchen, taking out a simple hand gun.

Fionna pressed herself against the side of the bed, pulling her knees up, tears escaping her eyes onto her already wet face. "I work for Fabian. I've worked at the Fire Kingdom for-"

"Quit your lies!" His voice rose.

"I'm not lying!"

"Which family are you apart of? Who sent you? Who do you respond to?"

Fionna let out a strained sob, holding her head. The bleeding had stopped and dried blood matted her hair. She shook her head, snuggling it into the withered fabric of the bed sheet and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I don't belong to anyone...I don't...I don't..." Her mutters were soft and sounded so foreign to her. Stillness filled the air. A soft slump was heard and a sigh.

"You're really not part of the Mafia, are you?" Fionna shook her head into the cloth. Another sigh echoed through the room.

A moment stretched opened her eyes and gained the confidence to peer over her shoulder. The man sat in front of the door, back against the wood. One knee was propped up, his hand with the gun resting on it. His other hand brushed through his hair.

His blue eyes fell to her face and took her in. He pierced his lips, staring at her features intently. He chewed on his lip, not giving up his gaze.

"I feel like I've seen you before. Where have I seen you before?" It was a rhetorical question that came out in a whisper. Fionna's lip trembled and she lightly coughed. She rubbed at her cheek to take away the numbness.

"Subway."

The man looked at her taken aback. He thought about her words and something in his mind clicked. His eyes grew and his lips parted. "You're the girl from the carriage! I didn't recognize you without your hat!"

Fionna weakly smiled. She knew if she hadn't been so cold, scared, and in pain, she would have found the situation hysterical.

The man ran his fingers through his hair one last time and glanced at her clothes. "Don't you have anything wear besides that?"

Fionna lightly snorted. "I did. Back at the restaurant."

"Right."

The tapping of the rain against the wall and windows filled the room. The man rubbed his face and stood up. A moment later, an armful of clothes plopped down in front of Fionna.

The blonde stared at the clothes and looked up at her kidnapper. The man tilted his head away and rubbed at his neck. "I'd let you use the bathroom, but the shower hasn't worked in weeks."

Fionna's lips formed an "o."

"Just...fish through these. Feel free to wear anything you want."

Fionna brought her attention down to the clothes. The man stepped away and disappeared into the bathroom. The blonde lifted a shaky arm and stroked the clothes. The majority of the articles of clothing were oversized t-shirts.

Picking out one, the shirt was white with a red panther vector vectored face. The material was soft and warm on her numb fingers. "Is that the one you want?"

Fionna nearly dropped the shirt. The man walked in, holding a towel. He handed it to her, avoiding eye contact. "You can get changed in the bathroom if you like."

The blonde stood up, knees wobbling. She darted for the bathroom with the towel and shirt, clicking shut the door.

Fionna stood in the grody bathroom, hand on the knob. The tiles were broken and the bathtub had mold and grime all along its surface. Clothes hung from the curtain railing via coat hangers and other items of clothing were plastered all over the floor and countertop.

The blonde quickly stripped away her wet clothing, folding them up in a weak attempt and placing them on the counter. She dried her body and slid the shirt on, happily discovering that the piece not just reached her knees, but filed a tad past them.

She hugged herself, taking in the smell of the fabric. Whiskey and tobacco filled her nostrils in an intoxicated aroma. It wasn't what she was used to, but it gave her comfort knowing that she was still alive. And that's all that really mattered.

Fionna searched the ceiling but the vent she found was too small. Windows ceased to exist and she turned back to the only exit she could really take. Placing her hand on the knob, she let it rest there for a few minutes before turning it achingly slow and poked her head out.

The man rested his back against the mattress, body turned away from her. Fionna left the door parted and inched along the wall and slid down, making sure her knees were tucked into the shirt. She hugged her body to her and stared at the raven haired man.

Time ticked by slowly and Fionna felt her eyes droop. Her skin felt cold and she couldn't imagine what Cake and Lorn were thinking back home. She tried to glance outside but the covering wouldn't allow her to depict the time of the night.

"You can sleep on the mattress if you like."

Fionna jumped and her eyes shot back to the man. His back was still toward her and he rubbed his neck. She wondered if she had imagined the statement. She snuggled back into the shirt.

"Just have the damn mattress."

The boom of his voice startled Fionna onto her feet. She inched toward the mattress, her eyes glued to his back. The sheets grazed her leg and she hovered beside bedding. Did he expect her to crawl into his bed and just sleep? How could she?

The man bowed his head. "Just sleep. I promise I won't hurt you."

Fionna's lip trembled and confidence rose in her chest. "How do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"Do you have any other choice?"

The blonde froze. She waited for the man to turn around and glare at her. To hold up his gun and taunt her. She knew if she tried to run, he could just shoot her. He'd beat her to the door if she tried to dart. Even if she did escape, could she find her way home? Could she handle the rain? Would she make it okay looking like this?

Fionna felt her shoulders slump and she sat on the bed. Dust escaped the mattress and the teen coughed. She slid her legs to her and tugged the sheets over her body, laying down on the pillow.

The rain thundered down on the brick outside and Fionna tucked her arms to her. The blonde flinched, bringing her injured hand up. The throb in her head caused her to shudder and she rubbed at the hidden burn, tears building up in her eyes.

The adrenaline that pumped through her veins died down and pain took its place. Her head screamed in misery, feet aching from the splinters and the burn itched away under the blue cloth that used to make up her shirt.

Light sobs escaped Fionna's mouth and she realized she had begun to cry. The tears overflowed her eyes and she buried her face into the pillow. She felt her body sink into darkness with every rigid breath and spaz that escaped her body.

Urgent footsteps rushed to her and Fionna heard the thunk of the man as he came to his knees. He lifted her head to look at him but all she could see was darkness. The cold, dark, blackness.

Something cold was pressed to her head and something pierced her scalp. She wanted to scream but it felt as though she was underwater and all she could do was suck in liquid and choke.

A warm hand stroked hers and Fionna felt her body slip away. Was she dying? Did dying feel like this? She wasn't ready to die. She couldn't die. What about Cake and Lorn? The club?

Fionna lifted her hand and she felt her fingers graze the stubble on his cheek. She had to tell him about her family. About how they needed her. She couldn't leave just yet. Not yet. She felt her lips move. Was sound coming out? She couldn't tell. The blood rushed in her ears and the tears numbed her already cold face.

With one last spaz, Fionna felt her body give out and she slipped into the black, icy darkness.


	7. Patience is a Virtue

**_"What sticks to memory, often, are those odd little fragments that have no beginning and no end..."_**

**_― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried_**

The sun peeked through the shutters and danced across Fionna's face. The girl snuggled her head into her pillow, enjoying the warmth of the blankets around her. The alarm clock beside her bed rang and the teen let out an agitated huff, reaching her hand out and turning it off.

Fionna sighed, letting sleep escape her. She sat up and rubbed at her face. Her room was warm from the morning sun and beads of light splattered over her walls.

The blonde slid her legs out of the sheets, knocking over her clean and folded work clothes. She reached over to pick up the cloth and froze, staring at the blue cloth that wrapped her hand.

Hopping out of bed, Fionna took in her room, turning around slowly. Red caught her eye and the blonde gazed down at the oversized t-shirt she wore, the top bearing the proud red vector of a panther's face that partially hid her pale legs. Fionna's feet had been cleaned of the splinter and pain had been replaced with a soothing numbness. The ache in her head was gone and Fionna let her fingers gently graze the now sewed up wound.

The smell of bacon tickled the girl's nose and she pulled on a pair of pants laying on the ground. Walking through the apartment, Fionna took in her surroundings with silent confusion.

Cake sat at the kitchen table reading New York Times. Lorn cooked away at the strips of meat and her sister glanced up from the paper. Upon seeing the blonde, the woman set the paper down and smiled.

"Hey, sugar lumps. Everything okay?"

Fionna took a seat and numbly looked at the two. "Yeah...everything's fine."

Lorn placed the plate of bacon on the table and Fionna jumped. Cake laughed and snatched a strip and took a bite. "Rough night? Was work okay?"

"Yeah...work was fine. Just fine." Fionna watched Lorn sit down and she suddenly her head spun. She wanted to reach out and grasp them by the shoulders and scream at them the questions that were building up in her head. How'd she get home? How did they not realize her absence? Were they worried? Did they not see the guy? Who was he? How'd he know where she lived? Did all of that seriously happen?

Cake gave her a worried look and leaned over, placing her hand on the blonde's forehead. "You okay baby? You seem...off. I think you should stay home from school today and just rest."

Fionna wanted to object, but a long nap suddenly sounded like just the thing she needed. Fionna nodded and swallowed. "Yeah...I guess I'm just tired. Sorry, Cake."

The young woman nodded, pulling her hand back. "It's alright, sweet cheeks. Just worried is all. Didn't see you at the club almost all night. Came upstairs and found you sleeping like a baby. Maybe you're just catching a cold. Weather's getting chilly. We should find you something to bundle up with." Cake scanned her younger sister and frowned. "I don't remember getting that shirt. Have you had it long?"

Cake reached to touch the sleeve of the tee and Fionna jerked out of the way. The tanned woman gave Fionna a look and the blonde avoided eye contact, sweat collecting on her brow.

"Yeah I must have. Found it last night laying around so I just thought..yeah." Fionna's words were spat out in a rushed mumble and she mentally slapped herself. She peeked at her older sister and was surprised to find her satisfied with the blonde's answer.

Fionna swallowed, feeling dizzy. "I'm going to go lay back down."

"Don't you want something to eat first?" Cake looked at the girl, startled.

The blonde glanced at the food. Her stomach growled but her appetite ceased to exist. "Maybe later. I'm not really hungry at the moment."

Cake nodded. "Well, call us if you get hungry at all. Lorn and I are running out to get some food but we'll be back lil bit later. We might be taking our nap, then. But feel free to cook up anything, okay?" Fionna nodded and gave the tanned woman a smile, holding up her thumbs.

The walk back to Fionna's room felt long. Once she reached her bed, she plopped down and fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

A loud commotion reached Fionna's open window, causing the girl to jolt awake. She checked her alarm clock and glared the numbers down. She had only been asleep for an hour.

Groaning, Fionna rolled out of bed and moved to shut the window but stopped upon recognizing Cake's shrill voice.

Running down the stairs and to the outside of the building, Fionna was met by the man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and white suit. More men had joined him and Lorn was holding down Cake by the shoulders, a look Fionna had never seen before etched onto her sister's face.

"What do you mean 'the tax was raised?' You said we owed you a hundred dollars! And here's your hundred dollars! Now scram!" A crowd had formed and Fionna kept close to the wall of the club.

The man lit a cigar, smiling. "Oh, I know, toots. I know. But the boss ain't satisfied with just that." If Cake could have, Fionna knew she would have punched him on the spot. Her face was bright red and her nostrils flared.

Cake clenched her teeth, trying her hardest to be polite. "Then how much do we owe now?" Fionna glanced at the armed men and the gathering crowd.

The man mockingly counted on his fingers, acting as though he were doing the math in his head. Finally, he came to a conclusion and smirked at Cake. "Seven hundred dollars."

Cake screeched, causing Fionna to jump. "Seven hundred dol-are you joking? That's insane! You're insane!" The man laughed and blew smoke in her face. Lorn wrapped his arms around the female's waist to keep her still.

"Seven hundred dollars or the place is mine." The man checked his nails, smirking into the piece of cancer that dangled from his lips. Cake looked as though she were about to pop. Fionna snuck past the crowd and slid her hand into her older sister's.

Cake looked at Fionna startled, the red leaving her face. She bit the inside of her cheek and brought her attention back to the Gambino accomplice.

"When do you need the money by?"

"Now would be nice." Cake choked and looked as though she were about to scream again. Fionna squeezed her hand. Cake inhaled and forced a smile. "But we don't have seven hundred dollars on us at the moment. Could you give us until tomorrow?"

The man drew his cigar and blew smoke into the air, thinking. He slyly looked down at the family with a stuck up sneer.

"I wish I could," his tone was sweet. Too sweet. Fionna wanted to throw up. "But the deal was today. And you know how the boss gets."

Cake's grip tightened in Fionna's hand and she winced. "Please, if you could just give us-"

"No can do, miss. You have by tomorrow to get out."

Cake gaped at the mobster. Lorn gripped her shoulders, a confused look on his face.

"Or else what?" Cake placed her hands on her hips, lightly trembling.

The man grinned. A look filled his eye and Fionna realized with horror he was waiting for one of them to ask. He stuck out his arm and grasped Fionna, tugging her to him. "Or else the girl is ours." He pulled the piece of cloth on her wrist down to expose the burn. Cake gasped, grasping Lorn's arm. The Latino stared at the mark in horror and Fionna wanted to cry. But she knew that's what the man expected. And she wasn't going to let him get his satisfaction.

Pushing her back, Fionna hugged Cake's waist and bit her lower lip, screwing her eyes shut. The man gave the family a satisfied nod, turned, and disappeared into the crowd followed by two other mobsters.

Some men in suits stayed behind to guard the club's front. The crowd shifted and went on their way. Cake, Fionna and Lorn stood in their spot, staring down the place where the mobster had been moments before. Cake sobbed and ran inside. Lorn chased after her, leaving the blonde to think.

Glancing at the mobsters and their machine guns, the blonde blinked back tears and escaped inside of the place she had called home for so long.

Cake's sobbing filled the apartment as she scattered from one room to the next, taking out boxes and packing what she could into them. Lorn stood at the doorway with a look of uncertainty on his face. Times like these Fionna felt sorry for the man. Did he wish he could hear the cries of his love? Did he feel lucky he couldn't? Did he wish he could give her verbal words of comfort?

The blonde grabbed her sister's arm. "Let go of me, Fionna. We need to pack. We need to find a place to stay until we-"

"Cake, calm down. We'll figure something out. We did once, we will again."

Fionna smiled and Cake couldn't help but sigh, her shoulders drooping. "You're right, honey. I'm just so scared." Fionna squeezed her shoulder. "I know, Cake. I know. We all are."

The tanned woman sucked in air and examined the room. "We might have to sell some stuff. I'll call up a friend of mine and see if we can possibly stay with her. Why don't you find a box and figure out what you want to keep and what should be sold, okay baby doll?"

Fionna nodded. "Yeah. Sure thing, Cake." She turned to head for her room, paused, and turned around. She looked at Lorn and Cake who held her gaze with the saddest expressions she'd ever seen on their faces. "I love you, guys." Lorn smiled and Cake held his hand. "We love you too, baby."

The blonde nodded and entered her room. The happy feeling she used to get every time she entered the small space vanished in her heart. The pictures on the walls looked lonely and foreign, the bed a nest meant for someone besides her and all of her most sacred possessions seemed worthless. How could she go to sleep without the beat of the club? What would Cake and Lorn do?

Fionna sat on her bed and thought. She felt so...helpless. She didn't like the feeling. It wasn't exactly new, but this type of helplessness seemed foreign to her.

The teen fished through the small closet, took out some boxes and began to pack. Glancing at the pieces of papers that stuck to the wall, the blonde decided to leave them. Whatever they did to the building, it would have the pieces of paper to remember who was there before its downfall.

After folding her clothing into the boxes along with the sheets from her bed, the blonde curled up on the bare mattress. The natural light dimmed and the blaze from the city took its place. City life buzzed and the sound of a small riot echoed deep in the heart of the skyscrapers.

Fionna eyed her alarm clock and jumped. The Fire Kingdom would open in less than an hour and the blonde felt her heart jump in her chest.

She snatched her outfit, scrambling to take the oversized t-shirt off and tugged on her tank top and shorts. Fionna felt for her heels and swore, remembering the alley they had fallen into the night prior.

Sliding her feet into her combat boots, Fionna raced from her room. She slowed down and saw the now empty kitchen and kept down a sob, holding back her tears. The club below was silent and Fionna didn't have to look when she slipped through the lower floor and past the exterior to know that the mobsters were still there, keeping customers at bay.

The subway ride was achingly slow, packed with bodies on their way home from a long day of work. Her stop came and Fionna found herself walking down a one way street and into the employee door of the Fire Kingdom.

The warmth of the building hugged her body and Fionna let out a sigh. She pressed her finger to the scanner on the wall and a green light lit up where her name was.

Walking into the employee lounge, Fionna opened her locker and her mood went deeper south. Taking out her shirt, she ran her fingers over the fabric of the ripped cloth and eyed the piece on her hand.

She folded the article of clothing and placed it back into her locker. Searching the rest of the space, Fionna was horrified to find her name tag missing. Scanning her memories, she knew she didn't see it on her clothes back at home. The red tag did not stick out in her mind's view of her room and she slammed the door in frustration, remembering the small square dangling in the man from the subway's fingers.

Fionna spun around and marched toward the door to the heart of the restaurant. Simone Petrikov, a middle aged woman with long, dyed white hair tied loosely at the end with a grey ribbon and icy blue eyes, walked through the door and knocked into Fionna, forcing the blonde to topple over.

"Watch where you're going, Fionna."

"Sorry, Simone." The teen stood up, brushing off her shorts. Simone pushed by her, strutting to her locker and glanced back at the blonde. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Are you really going out in those shoes?"

Fionna gave her a questioning look and peered down at her combat boots. "Oh. Yeah. Forgot bout those."

Simone cackled and fished through her locker. "Lose your heels?"

"Yeah...last night."

"That's a shame.

"Tell me about it."

Fionna rubbed at her neck. "Lost my name tag too."

"Fabian won't be too happy bout that. Might fire you."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Fionna bit the inside of her cheek and tears welled up in her eyes. She suddenly hated the man that stole her from the Fire Kingdom the night before. He stole the two things from her that could jeopardize her job. Doesn't he realize what he's doing to her?

Simone glanced back at Fionna and sighed. "What shoe size are you."

"What?"

"Just answer the question, Fionna."

"Six. In women's."

Simone dug through her locker and took out a pair of heels. She tossed them behind her to Fionna, not bothering to look. "They're a size seven, but it's better than those."

Fionna caught the shoes and ran her finger over the black velvet. A shaky smile pierced the blonde's lips. "Thank you, Simone. Thank you so much! I can't thank you enough!"

The woman waved her hand, smiling. "No worries, sweet heart. If you leave, who else am I going to be a bitch to?"

"Everyone else?"

The woman blinked, then threw back her head and cackled. "You owe me for this, blondie." Simone winked and strutted back out into the restaurant.

Fionna wasted no time ripping off her combat boots, throwing them into the locker, spinning the lock and shoving her feet into the size too big shoes.

Standing up, the teen wobbled, but it was good enough. She could live without her name tag for that night.

The hours flew by as the blonde concentrated on delivering food and drinks without tripping. A smile found its way onto her face and she felt her body relax.

Out of the corner of her eye, a flash of a white suit and hair caught her attention and she stumbled, the drinks on the tray tipped over and crashed to the floor.

The tables surrounding her fell silent and gave her worried looks. Some mobsters laughed and Fionna bent down, picking up the pieces of glass with trembling hands. The shards cut into her skin but she barely felt it.

Glancing over where she saw the haunting figure, she relaxed, realizing the suit wasn't as white and his hair wasn't slicked back. His nose was crooked and eyes were a light hazel instead of the black holes Fionna knew.

The restaurant buzzed once more with chatter and Fionna placed the glass on the tray, picked it up and placed it on the counter.

Grabbing a rag, she mopped up the puddle, tossed the cloth into the sink and slumped against the counter. Her hands stung with cuts but the pain was tolerable.

Scanning the eatery, Fionna's mind wandered up the stairs to the second floor, past Fabian's office and to the attic above.

Thinking about the room gave Fionna goosebumps and anger filled her veins. Did Fabian know about the hideaway? Should she tell him? The blonde tilted her head up to the ceiling.

Pushing her body away from the counter, the teen slithered her way through the restaurant and to the bar in the corner. Lavender pierced her vision and Fionna found LSP talking to the bar tender, both laughing over an unheard joke.

Fionna tapped the man on the shoulder and he jumped, swinging around to meet her eyes. "God, Fionna! You scared me!" The blonde laughed as the man scowled.

"Sorry, LSP. Just wondering if I could ask something of you."

"Only if you don't scare me again. That was mean." Fionna weakly smiled. "I'll try not to." The man nodded, satisfied. "What would you like?

"Could you get someone to watch over my section again? Just for a little bit? I need to talk to the big man."

LSP bit the inside of his mouth. "Yeah, that's fine. I owe you for keeping the place tidy when I opened the joint up." He gave Fionna a smile which she gratefully returned.

"Thanks, LSP. I owe ya one." She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. LSP nodded and Fionna dropped her arm, spun around and entered the employee lounge. She climbed the stairs and entered the dark hallway.

Suddenly, Fionna wasn't sure if she should be up there. Depending on his mood and the situation, Fabian either welcomed or was angered by disturbances. The light outline of the attic called out to her from the shadow of the ceiling didn't help the nerves that were building up in her stomach either.

Fionna shivered and stood before the double doors. She brought her fist up, lowered it, raised it up once more, inhaled, and lightly knocked.

A minute flew by and the blonde wondered if she had knocked hard enough. She raised her fist and tapped at the wood again. An irritated grunt came from inside followed by a "I'm coming! Christ, learn some patience."

Fabian threw open the door, the scowl on his face melting in a pleasant grin upon realizing who his guest was. "Fionna! Hey! Just the person I wanted to talk to. Come on in!"

He held the door open for her and the blonde entered and stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. Fabian brushed past her, plopping into his chair and kicked his feet up. "Take a seat."

Fionna scanned the room and her eyes fell to a comfortable looking arm chair sitting in front of Fabian's desk. She sat her self down and crossed her legs. Fabian took a slinky from his desk and began to play with it.

"Meant to summon you up earlier but I got completely distracted. Sorry about that."

Fionna nodded. "It's fine." She gave him a smile.

"I'm impressed. You really kept the restaurant tidy and a hell of a better job than when I shut the place down." He stared up at the ceiling, thinking. His lips twitched thoughtfully and he brought his brown eyes back down to Fionna.

"You know, I think this calls for a raise." He nodded to himself. "Yeah. That's it. A raise. How much do I pay you already?"

Fionna felt her eyes light up. "Thirty-five dollars an hour, sir."

Fabian tossed the slinky violently onto the desk. The blonde jumped, startled. "Double that."

"What?"

"Double that. What would that be? Thirty-five times two, right? That'd be..." Fionna watched him count on his fingers.

"I think it's seventy."

"And that's why you're getting the raise. Smart little bitch. How bout we start that pay tomorrow?" Fabian smiled and Fionna felt herself grin. She wanted to jump up and place a big fat kiss on his cheek and thank the hell out of him. Instead she reached out and took his hand, giving it a shake. "Thank you so much, Fabian! You have no clue how much this means to me!"

Fabian waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah. No need to thank me, Fionna. It's the least I could do." The two exchanged thoughtful looks. The man rubbed at his nose with a finger and averted eye contact. "Anything else you want to talk about?"

"Huh?"

"You came up here looking like you wanted to talk. Something you need to tell me?"

Fionna bit her lip, an image of the attic popping into her mind. "The attic. There's an attic here, right?"

"Yeah. We mainly use the space for storage. I recommend not going up there, though. Haven't used it in God knows when. I don't want you hurting yourself."

Fionna nodded. "Right."

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just wondering. I saw the doorway and was just curious is all."

Fabian swung his feet off of the desk. "I see. Yeah, just storage up there. Should probably clean it out eventually. Maybe when summer comes around again."

Fionna stood up. "Thanks for your time, Fabian. I think I'm going to get back to work, if you don't mind."

The blonde opened the door and stuck a foot out. An idea struck her and Fionna hesitated, turning around. "Hey, Fabian?"

The man looked up from some papers. "Yeah?"

"Do you think I can lock up the place again tonight?

The Fire Kingdom was silent and still. The chairs had been stacked up on the tables and the floors shone from a recent washing.

Fionna placed the key to the restaurant on Fabian's desk, closed the door behind her and stood in the dark hallway. Her breathing filled the hall as her hearing searched the small spaces and shadows of the building.

Half an hour sped by in what felt like seconds. The building continued to ring in silence and Fionna felt her body tense with anticipation. But nothing else could be heard besides the breath that escaped her lungs.

The blonde eyed the ceiling and felt her way along the wall to the where she knew the square of the building's attic was. Fionna stood directly under the entry way and felt that something was missing.

That night, light did not peak out from the cracks of the door. But that's not what bothered Fionna. The image of the rusty metal chair filled her vision and Fionna whipped around, searching the ground for the broken piece of furniture. Nothing.

The blonde immediately thought back to her red headed boss. He must have found it and cleaned it up. Fionna frowned and she realized he couldn't have. If he had found it, he would have mentioned it to her. The girl thought about LSP but she knew he would have nagged about it when she had talked to him. Everyone else rarely came upstairs and Fionna froze with heavy realization that the man must have climbed down and cleaned it up. And if he did, that meant he had access to the whole building and on one would ever know. Well, except for her, now.

Fionna's feet, now back in her combat boots and non work shorts, glared up at the ceiling with every emotion she felt at the moment.

The blonde scavenged for a chair and pushed the door open, and climbed in. She didn't bothere to hesitate and stood up, the door slamming shut behind her.

Fionna blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. The space was chilly and the blonde fought from trembling.

The teen held in a gasp. The candles had been cleaned out and the table was gone and junk filled the once empty space. If Fionna hadn't known better, she would have thought she had the wrong attic.

The girl felt the ground with her foot, careful not to stumble on the boxes or random junk lying around. She slipped through narrow spaces and crawled over some furniture, nearly creating a land slide from the stored items.

In no time, the teen made it to the other side of the attic. The window was slightly open, letting a cool breeze filter in. Fionna placed her hand on the glass and the rotten wood of the window's pane beneath her fingers.

Fionna turned back to the attic and let her eyes feather over the abandoned room and the misguided treasures within it. She inhaled and opened the window. Immediately she was greeted with the icy hand of autumn and her skin lit up from the glow of the October moon. Fionna escaped through the window, leaving the safety of the eatery behind.

The roof was empty and Fionna inched her way to the edge. She peered three stories down at the alley below. The shards of broken wood no longer were there and Fionna couldn't find the black dot of her heels.

Huffing, Fionna searched for something she could use to cross the gap to the office building over. A rusted ladder hid behind stacks of tile, it's black paint peeling off. Fionna grabbed it and inched it across the gap to the other side. She tested the object, satisfied with its solidity.

Placing her foot on the first rung, the blonde breathed in the polluted air and gazed down at the cement below. She balanced on the rung and swung her other foot onto the next.

Fionna stretched out her arms to gain her balance, nerves leaving her. She passed the halfway mark and grinned. Placing her foot on a rung, the metal creaked and snapped. Fionna's leg shot down and her skin met with the rusty metal. Pain shot through her body and she clung to the ladder's sides for dear life.

Minutes ticked by before Fionna found the will to loosen her grasp and hoist her leg up from the damaged rung and onto the next, shakily standing up. She eased her way to the ladder's edge and jumped to the safety of the office building's roof.

The teen inhaled and exhaled deeply, gazing at the darkened sky. The rough surface of the office felt secure beneath her and for every lit up window she could see in taller sky scrapers she also counted her blessings.

Fionna stood up and followed the path the man had led her the night before. She crawled down outdoor escape shafts and dodged up alley's. Just when the blonde thought she had gotten herself hopelessly lost, Fionna turned a corner and found the abandoned apartment complex.

The building seemed to lean with a certain kind of sadness. The wind rattled through the broken windows, creating a sigh like noise from the complex.

For a long time, Fionna had forgotten why she was there. Suddenly, the apartment felt too real. Not just a dream.

The blonde felt her feet move into the building, up the stairs and to the green door. Fionna let her fingers graze the faint imprint left behind from the now missing numbers. Her fingers roamed to the doorknob and Fionna opened the door.

The teen braced for a shout. For a gun shot. For something. Anything, really. When nothing did happen, Fionna couldn't figure out if she was relieved or disappointed.

The room was empty minus the furniture and articles of clothing. Fionna walked in, shutting the door behind her. She thought about checking the bathroom but the idea of waling in on the man doing anything in there made her face warm.

Eyeing the door, Fionna sighed and sat on the bed, pulling her knees up and glared at the exit. The digital clock on the kitchen counter read 3:00 A.M. She'd give him till sunrise to show up. If he didn't, then she'd leave and face the wrath of the Gambino family. Closing her eyes to escape the image of the black eyes of the man with the platinum hair, Fionna hugged her knees closer and began to wait.


	8. Wake up Call

_**"I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do."**_

_**― Leonardo da Vinci**_

Fionna couldn't tell if minutes had passed or hours. But the smell of pancakes gave her the push she needed to wake up from her slumber.

The blonde peeked an eye open and a groan escaped her lips. Her body was curled up on the bed and she propped herself up, rubbing her eyes. A low chuckle escaped nearby. "Morning, sleeping beauty."

Fionna froze and sat up sharply, eyes fully open. Her kidnapper stood at the stove and flipped a pancake, humming to himself and placed the pancake on a plate. Fionna scooted herself as far as she could get away from him and glared.

"Why are you here?"

"Strange, I was just about to ask you that myself."

Fionna felt her face flush. The man's hum eased to a whistle. He grabbed a second plate with a pancake on it Fionna hadn't seen, silverware balance on both plates. He turned and headed for the bed.

The man sat down opposite from Fionna, swinging his legs up so that he was sitting cross legged on the mattress. He placed a plate in front of her and sat the other in his lap, immediately digging into the food.

The blonde dared to glance down at the food in front of her and finally noticed the odd shade of red the pancakes were. Her nose crinkled and she brought her attention back to her kidnapper who seemed to be highly enjoying the food.

"Why are they red?"

"They're red velvet pancakes."

"Red velvet?"

"Yeah. Like the cake mix."

Fionna stared at the man in confusion. He slowed his chewing, holding her eye contact. He quickened the pace and swallowed, wiping at his mouth.

"You've never had red velvet before?"

The blonde crossed her arms in defense. "I've heard of it. Just never had the money to buy it." She felt herself pout and the man smiled. He nodded toward the plate. "Try it."

Fionna stared at the red breakfast food in wonder. The sliced square piece of butter that sat on the pancake awkwardly mocked what it looked like in food magazines and brochures of hotels.

"Don't make me force feed you."

Fionna picked up the plate and scooted back a little more on the bed. The man chuckled and the blonde played with the food with her fork, watching the butter melt into streams.

"Why red velvet?"

"Why not?"

"I mean...why not just plain buttermilk?"

"Red velvet is better."

Fionna gazed at the food.

"Force feeding is still an option, ya know." Fionna felt her face grow redder.

"C'mon. Don't be rude."

Fionna sighed and cut into the pancake. She lifted the piece up to her mouth and took a bite. Her taste buds buzzed and the sweetness melted on her tongue. She chewed slowly, savoring the beautiful taste. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

"I knew you'd like it." Fionna opened her eyes and looked away, continuing to eat the pancake in silence. The teen could feel the man's eyes on her. His gaze was filled with sincere curiosity.

Fingers brushed the fabric around her wrist and Fionna jumped, startled. She moved to pull her hand away but he grasped her arm gently but firmly, tugging the fabric down to expose the "G" burned into her skin.

Fionna flinched, her eyes glued to the mattress. He chewed the bite he had taken thoughtfully and swallowed. "Got the Gambino family against you?" He brushed his thumb over the burn and Fionna flinched, tugging her hand away. "I don't want to talk about it." The man nodded, taking both of their now empty plates.

He slipped off of the bed and washing the dishes in the kitchen sink. The man scrubbed at the dishes, a whistle escaped from his lips.

"So were you here to just eat my food or were you planning on interrogating me?"

Fionna's face flushed and she shoved herself off of the mattress, bowing her head and headed for the front door. "Never mind."

The blonde nearly tripped down the stairs and stumbled into the cool breeze bellowing through the city. She breathed, shoving her hands into her pocket and made her way to the path she took to find the apartment.

A block down, the hum of an engine ascended beside her. Fionna picked up her pace. So did the car. Her heart did a flip in her chest as the car sped a tad ahead then stopped. The window rolled down and her kidnapper stuck his head out from the black Honda CRZ.

"Hop in."

Fionna skidded to a stop and gawked at him in disbelief. He reached over and pushed the passenger door open. "I said hop in. I'll take you to your place."

The blonde crossed her arms, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her voice from shaking. "And how do you know where I live? How'd you even get me home first time around? Are you some kind of stalker?"

"I broke into your boss's office and searched your file."

"Oh."

"So are you going to get in or get yourself killed walking home?"

Fionna rubbed her arm, looking down the dark streets and allies. Gangsters walked the side walks; smoke rose from a nearby building and prostitutes lingered on a stoop nearby. She sighed and slipped into passenger seat, shutting the door.

The sleek feel of leather tickled Fionna's exposed legs. The heat of the automobile wrapped her up as if it were a warm blanket and new car smell filled her nostrils.

"You might want to buckle up, sweetheart."

Fionna snatched her belt and clicked it. The man chuckled and pulled out into the busy road. The blonde turned her attention to the city speeding by outside. Watching the lights blur together and the buildings fade into one another made Fionna dizzy. She sunk into her seat, focusing on the dashboard in front of her.

Her former kidnapper remained silent, gazing at the road and now and then turned his head to look into the review mirror or the side mirrors.

Fionna found her eyes roll over the dashboard of the car and onto the man. Under the stubble, the blonde noticed how slightly baby like his face looked. He had semi fuller cheeks and wide eyes. When he wasn't staring intently, the blue of his eyes calmed to a Prussian hue.

"Marshall Lee."

Fionna's heart jumped to her throat and she immediately blushed, thinking she had been caught. She tried to tear her eyes away but found she couldn't.

"H-huh?"

"My name's Marshall Lee."

Fionna felt her nerves calm down and she relaxed back into the leather. She mulled over the piece of information and found herself content with the information given. "Oh."

The car grew silent and Fionna rubbed her hands together in thought, placing them on her thighs.

"Do you just go by Fionna?"

"Huh? Ugh...yeah. Just Fionna. Nothing special." She mentally slapped herself. Of course he'd know her name. He had her name tag and fished through her private file. What else did he know about her? Fionna glanced at him but he remained focused on the road.

Marshall pulled up to a curb and Fionna gazed at him in confusion. He smiled smugly. "You're apartment's down the road. You're welcome."

Fionna turned her head away so he wouldn't see her blush. She threw open the door and stepped out. She longed for the warm interior of the car and hugged herself. She turned her head slightly so she could see his figure in her peripheral vision.

"Thank you."

She closed the door and gazed at the darkened building of The Tree Fort. She could see the two mobsters still standing in front guarding the doors. In the horizon, the sky bubbled with pink and the promise of sunrise.

Fionna ran down the sidewalk and past the guards. She ran up the stairs and into the apartment, eased into the building soundlessly, locked the door and dashed to her room. She shut the door with trembling arms.

Her room looked so bare. So...naked. Was it even hers? No, not anymore. Come noon, it'd belonged to the Mafia. And she couldn't do a thing about it.

The blonde stepped toward her mattress and stumbled on an item on the ground. She looked down at the oversized t-shirt Marshall had lent her. She picked it up, lower lip trembling. She slipped it on over her tank top and hugged herself, collapsing onto her "bed." The teen sucked in air and allowed the tears she had been holding back stream down her face as her sobs were lost to the ambient noise of the city traffic outside.


	9. All That Really Mattered

_**"The savior who wants to turn men into angels is as much a hater of human nature as the totalitarian despot who wants to turn them into puppets."**_

_**-Eric Hoffer-**_

Cake slammed Fionna's door open, causing the blonde to jolt awake. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead and Cake's face had been drained of colour. Fionna rubbed at her eyes.

"Cake? What-?"

"You should come outside."

Before Fionna could ask any more questions, Cake darted from the door frame. The blonde peeled herself from her bed and stretched, froze, and remembered what day it was. She let her arms drop and bit her lip to stop the tears from coming.

Anxious murmurs rang up to Fionna's window and the blonde's brow furrowed. She leaned down to grab a box but decided against it, slipping through her door and down the stairs to the outside.

The murmurs grew to chatter and Fionna pushed her way through a formed crowd. She slid past the last of the pedestrians and tripped, sliding under the yellow tape and landing on her hands and knees.

Fionna looked up and felt her body grow stiff. The two men in white that had been guarding the Tree House had been replaced with two in slacks, white button down shirts, suspenders and fedoras. They held slicked black Beretta M12s close to their bodies and stared at the crowd, daring anyone to attack.

The blonde's eyes panned to the doorway and gasped. There, in a crimson armchair, sat Marshall Lee. One leg was swung over an arm of the chair, the other placed firmly on the ground. He leaned on his elbow against the other arm of the chair and looked upon the crowd with a smug look.

Cake pushed through the crowd, slid under the tape and stood beside Fionna. Lorn followed close by and pulled Fionna to her feet. The blonde felt Cake's arm wrap around her as well and the family gazed upon the situation.

The man in the white suit pushed his way through the crowd with two men at his side who were, shoving the pedestrians out of their way with their guns. The rest backed up as much as they could without being touched by the weapon.

When the mobster realized the two men at the building were not his own, he stopped in his tracks. He snapped his fingers and his men lifted their guns.

The men with the fedoras lifted their weapons as well and clicked ready. Marshall Lee chuckled and wagged his finger. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Antoine. I've got men stationed all around the premises. One wrong move and they'll blast your brains out."

The Gambino accomplice, Antoine, attempted to swallow his nerves and shifted his eyes secretly to the buildings around him, trying to glimpse the hidden assassins and attempting to figure out if Marshall was bluffing or not. He shook his head, deciding not to test it.

Antoine smile and straightened his tie. "And what brings you to my property, Marshall? Lose a bet?" Marshall smiled, a bored look crossing his face.

"Funny you mentioned that. Your boss still owes my father thousands of dollars." Antoine grew pale. "I could just end your misery here if you like. Unless Raphael would like to cough up the dough now?" Marshall brought his hand up and rubbed his fingers together.

Antoine took out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his temples. He fidgeted under Marshall's intense stare and Fionna felt herself smirk. "I'll talk to the boss about that. But this property is ours, Marshall. We taxed, we earned. So beat it."

Marshall clicked his tongue. "Not so fast, my friend. Take this place and harm the family and I'll shoot you down." Antoine knitted his eyebrows and opened his mouth to argue. Marshall outstretched his arm in Fionna's direction. "Fi?"

Fionna frowned at the nick name and gazed at his hand. He wiggled his fingers, not looking at her. "Come on. Don't be shy."

The blonde took a step forward and reached her hand out, slipping away from her sister and Lorn, away from the safety of her family. She felt eyes boring into her and she averted her eyes to the ground.

Once she was close enough to Marshall, she grazed her fingers with his. Marshall sat up, both feet on the floor now and gently caught her hand with his, tugging her to him. She stumbled and fell into his lap.

The blonde blushed and moved to get up, but he snaked his arms protectively around her lower torso. His breath tickled her neck and Fionna did her best not to blush or notice the judging eyes that watched every move she, Marshall, and the mobsters made.

"I don't think you want to hurt the family of my girl, Antoine. That might make me mad. And you know how I get when I'm mad." Marshall bent down and grazed his lips against the nape of Fionna's neck. She shuddered and felt her legs grow weak. The blonde dug her fingers into the arm of his trench coat and he lightly chuckled into her skin.

Antoine grew pale and he tossed his handkerchief down. "You win this time, Marshall. Don't let it get to your head." The platinum blonde snapped his fingers and his mobsters escaped into the crowd. He glared at Marshall and turned to leave.

"If I find out you are even plotting to hurt my girl and her family, I will kill you personally." He licked his lips and raised his voice. "That goes for everyone else as well."

Antoine's skin shone with a light green tint. For a moment, Fionna wondered if he were going to get sick on the spot. Instead, he pushed a pedestrian out of the way and ran. Marshall let out a laugh and stood up, taking Fionna with him. He didn't bother to drop his grip on her, watching the crowd dispatch with a childish glee.

Marshall spun Fionna gingerly out of his arms and held onto her fingers lightly. He turned to the two mobsters beside him. "Claus, Dave, guard the place when the club is open. Pull over anyone who even looks like they'd cause trouble and report to me any suspicious behavior."

The two mobsters nodded and brought their attention back to the street, analyzing every person that crossed their path. Fionna watched as two more men dressed similarly to Claus and Dave approach the building, pinning two large imperial flags with MA embroidered into them in gold and red.

Fionna glanced over her shoulder at her family. Cake stared at her dumbfounded and Lorn looked hopelessly confused. She brought her attention down to her fingers lingering in Marshall's palm and attempted to slip them away. Marshall's grip only tightened and he panned his eyes to the tanned woman and deaf Latino.

Cake had brought her hands to her face and Lorn held his arms around her protectively. Marshall smirked at them but gave them a sincere nod. Marshall squeezed Fionna's hand and winked at her, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and strode to the curb. A black limo pulled up and he slipped inside soundlessly. The car sped away.

Fionna blinked and brought her hand up to her ear and grazed her neck, feeling heat flush in her face. 'What just happened?' Fionna wanted to run after the car, demand for it to stop and ask Marshall why he did that. She wasn't his girl. Why did he say that? It wasn't true.

Cake's long fingers grasped her shoulder and led the blonde up the stairs and into the flat. Once the door was closed, Cake wiped her head in Fionna's direction, face growing increasingly red.

"You're dating a MOBSTER? You're dating a MOBSTER! When did this happen? How? Why?"

"Cake, calm down!"

"No! No, I'm not going to calm down! You've been seeing a mobster and you didn't tell me? Why didn't you tell me? Do you know how much trouble this can cause for us!"

Fionna felt tears sting her eyes. What was she supposed to do? Tell the truth? That he had kidnapped her and she went back despite the chance of her getting killed or raped on her way there or by Marshall himself? No, Cake would have a panic attic if she knew. But what was Fionna supposed to say? She wasn't seeing Marshall. She had only met him twice. Well...three times if you count the subway incident.

The blonde sighed and ran her hand through her bangs, her mind reeling. "I...met him at the restaurant. He sat in my section and we just hit it off." She bit the inside of her cheek. "It's not serious Cake, honest. We've just...gone to get dinner sometimes and that's it. Honest! I...I didn't even know he was in the Mafia..." The last part was true. Very true. Fionna thought about her own words and suddenly, she felt weird. She knew it was probably a given that Marshall was a mobster, but she realized deep down she had hoped he was just a guy wanting out of this hell hole like her. Just a guy who wants to rid the world of mobsters so they could walk the street without worrying about being caught up in a riot or sold to be a prostitute or slave for a mob boss.

Cake fell into one of the fold up chairs they used at the dinning table and sighed, rubbing at her temples. Fionna placed a hand on her shoulder. "At least we have the house and club, Cake." Fionna smiled and felt the tanned woman relax. "You're right, baby. And for that I'm thankful. I just..." She inhaled and gazed up at the blonde. "I hope this doesn't turn around to bite us in the bum."

Fionna squeezed Cake shoulder once more, not really to reassure the older woman but to reassure herself. She swallowed and put on a smile. "I'm sure things will be fine Cake. We're safe now and that's all that matters." Fionna swallowed and felt a chill run up her spin. 'In the end, that's all that really mattered.'


	10. Good Guys Finish Last

_**"...only the victims and survivors can truly comprehend the awfulness of that time and place; the rest of us live on the other side of the fence, staring through from our own comfortable place, trying in our own clumsy ways to make sense of it all."**_

_**― John Boyne, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas**_

When morning came, Fionna got dressed more than thrilled with the boxes gone and her stuff back where it belonged. The noises that echoed through the city was music to her ears and she wanted to kiss her floor, her bed, the walls, and everything that she and her family called "theirs."

Fionna grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, whistling. Breakfast loomed in the air and the blonde waltzed into the kitchen. "Hello, family!"

Lorn sat reading the paper and cake sipped a cup of coffee. Lorn smiled and waved but Cake ducked her head down to stare at the table. Fionna frowned and slipped a piece of bread into the toaster. She turned and leaned against the make shift counter, looking at the two. "I'll try to finish up work tonight early so I can help you with the club. I'm sure Fabian would be alright with it."

Lorn gave her the O.K sign but Cake continued to remain silent. The toast popped from the toaster and Fionna jumped. She took the slice and stuck it in her mouth, heading for the door.

With her hand grasping the handle, she turned back to Cake and Lorn. The Latino man had gone back to reading the paper and Cake stared solemnly at the table. Fionna felt her heart drop and she took the toast from her mouth. "I love you, Cake."

Fionna could see a small smile appear on Cake's face and she rested her forehead into her hand. "I love you too, baby doll. So much." The blonde smiled weakly and exited through the door.

The trip to school was quick and painless. Fionna barely noticed the crowd in the subways or how cold the world had grown almost over night. She had replaced the warmth of Marshall's shirt for her own, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea.

She flipped her I.D to the guards and strolled into the school. Fionna puckered her lips to whistle a cheery tune as she walked the corridors to room 31.

The class was empty as usual and Gumball scribbled furiously on the board. Fionna tried to make out what it could mean but she concluded that it was science and she'd probably figure it out eventually. She doubted that last thought, but she could still hope.

Fionna walked up to the ginger, a smile tugging at her lips. She hopped onto the stool and crossed her legs, leaning an elbow on one and fixed her gaze on him. Minutes ticked by without him noticing and the blonde rolled her eyes, tapping him on the shoulder.

Gumball jumped and let out a light squeal. He relaxed when he saw who it was, but his mind pieced something together that Fionna couldn't figure out and he tensed away, holding the textbook he had to his chest as though to protect himself.

"Fionna, you really shouldn't be here."

Fionna scrunched up her nose and smiled. "Of course I should be here, Gumball. I go here. I'm a student. Remember?" She leaned over to lightly knock her fist against his forehead but the man flinched away. The blonde felt a pain in her chest and she let her clenched hand drop.

Gumball scanned the room, the ceiling and the walls. He leaned in looking absolutely terrified. The fear made his blue eyes brighter and he looked older. So much older. It scared Fionna.

"Fionna, why'd you have to get involved with him? Do you know what this means?"

The blonde scoffed and waved her hand. "Gumball, it's nothing. We're not really together. He just did that to protect me. To protect my family."

Gumball tapped the book nervously and "shh"ed her, eyes pleading for her to keep her volume down. His eyes grew wider and he hugged the book to his chest.

"What? Does anyone else know about this?

"Well...no...but-"

"Fionna, if anyone else found that out, you, Cake, and Lorn could all be in mortal danger. Think about what mobsters would do to you all knowing your relationship is one big fat lie?"

Now it was the blonde's turn to shush him. "Gumball, how'd you even hear about it? Does anyone else know about this?"

"Everyone does! It's no secret! How could you expect it to be a secret?" Gumball spazzed, throwing his arms each and every way. "I mean, for Christ sake Fionna you got yourself involved with the son of evil! Everyone's going to know that! I wouldn't be surprised if the news reached over seas by tomorrow!"

Fionna froze and felt her face grow pale. "Wait, what did you say?"

Gumball inhaled, blood rushing to his face. "I said, I wouldn't be surprised if the news reached overseas!" He tripped on his words and struggled to spit out what he wanted to say. Finally he made a noise and threw his arms up. "How could you get yourself involved with an Rossi? I mean, really! I thought you were smarter than that!"

Fionna leaned back in complete shock. The blood drained from her face and she felt dizzy. An Rossi? He must be mistaken. Marshall isn't an Rossi. His last name is Lee. Lee. Not Rossi. There must be some horrible mistake.

Gumball's bickering ceased and the room filled with silence. "You didn't know, did you?"

Fionna licked struggled to moisten her dry mouth. Her tongue felt heavy and for a brief moment she forgot how to talk. "Gumball, there must be a mistake. He can't be an Rossi. His last name is Lee. Marshall Lee. Not Marshall Rossi."

The red head shook his head sadly and opened a file cabinet in his desk. He fished through it and took out a paper, tossing it to her. The front page held a picture of the godfather of the states and a younger looking Marshall standing beside him.

Marshall was a spitting image of his father. The only difference that the blonde could pin point was the difference in eye and hair colour. Marshall's eyes radiated blue like no tomorrow and his father's were grey and lifeless. Godfather Rossi refused to smile and his hair had whitened over the years, a contrast to his son's silky black locks.

Fionna hadn't realized she was clinging to the paper. Her knuckles were white and she loosened her grip, feeling a throb pulse through her fingers.

"His name is Marshall Lee. That's his first name. Marshall Lee Rossi. Son of Hunson Rossi. His face isn't well known but his name is. He's famous for appearing at public executions and meetings with the mob families only to disappear for long periods of time. He only shows his face when he wants or when he's summoned by his father."

The blonde traced the face of her former kidnapper. How could he be the spawn of Satan? How could she be the "lover" of the heir to the godfather's thrown?

"Fionna...are...are you okay? You don't look so good..."

Fionna shoved the paper back at him and stumbled off of the stool. "I'm fine I...I don't feel good. I think I'm going to go home. It was nice seeing you, Gumball. I'm..." A sob ripped from her chest and the blonde ran from the room.

In the hallways, she felt the stares of the kids. She begged them to look away in her mind as she fled the building. The packed subways made her claustrophobic and she could feel thousands of eyes on her. Thousands of eyes judging her. Judging her for being "the girl" of the most hated man in the world's son. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

Fionna dived out of the car and coughed, thankful her stop had come. She ran the rest of the way to the Tree Fort, up the stairs and slammed the door, not bothering to say hello to the confused couple in the kitchen. She landed on her mattress hard and felt a sob rip through her chest. The sound made her cringe and she never wanted to hear or make that noise again, but it came over and over and over as tears soaked her face and red dyed her pale facial features.

Cake nor Lorn didn't dare knock on the door or stick their head in. Fionna didn't blame them. She was one of THEM now. Not the plain Jane Fionna had been all her life. She was sucked into the life of the Mafia and she ruined her present and she damn well ruined her future.

The light outside dimmed and was replaced with the false lights of the city. Fionna couldn't remember when she stopped crying and sobbing, but her throat stung and her lungs inhaled and exhaled deeply, giving her body a healing effect. Her brain thumped at her skull as though it were demanding to be let out and Fionna forced herself up. She had to go to work soon.

The beat of the club vibrated the floor under her and she wanted to kiss the sound. She thought she'd never hear and feel it again. It felt like an old friend. An old friend she desperately needed to see again.

Fionna dressed in her work attire and dragged her feet out of her room and outside. The night seemed darker and unkinder. She didn't want to go. She just wanted to sleep and pretend she didn't exist. But she knew she had to. Although she may be protected by Marshall's men now, that might not last long. And she wanted to be sure they were safe if anything were to happen.

A loud "pst!" penetrated the night and Fionna glanced around, fear rising in her chest. A shadow flickered and Gumball emerged, dressed in a black turtle neck and jeans.

Fionna's face twisted in surprise and she glanced around as well before tip toeing over to the man and leaning in. "Gumball? What are you doing here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The man hushed her and his eyes scanned the alley. "I'm here to help you run away, Fionna."

"What-?"

"SHH!"

Fionna zipped her lips and leaned in closer. "Why?

"Because you don't deserve to be dragged into the life of the Mafia, Fionna. It's not for you. It sucks you in and fucks you up and I don't want to see someone as pure as you be tainted."

The blonde felt her heart quicken and she found herself smiling. "Thanks, Gumball...but you really shouldn't be here. If one of Marshall's men catches you, you're dead."

"I know. So you need to come with me. Now."

Fionna stared the red head down and searched his eyes. She jerked back, realizing how serious he was. She glanced at her feet and to the exit she took past the entrance to the Tree Fort and back to Gumball.

"No time to waste!"

Gumball took her wrist and dragged her along the alley, past garbage cans, piles of brick and wood. "I have a friend in New Jersey that can give you a place to hide until things pass over. I'll smuggle your sister and Lorn over when thing die down. My friend can find you clothes and food and a job. I gave her a call when I could."

They rounded a corner and a three men sat along the wall smoking and playing cards. Gumball shuddered and brought his voice to a hush. "Don't make eye contact."

Fionna held his hand tight and scanned the ground. Her fingers tightened around her bag and the two walked past the men as calmly as they could. One stood up and stepped in front of Gumball.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, man, what's a guy like you doing with a girl like that?"

Fionna felt the sneers on the men's faces and it took everything she had from crying and running away. Gumball smiled and tugged her closer. "Few alleys down are riddled with whores. If you want some you better go now. I saw some of Rudolph's men lingering about."

The man peered down at his friends. One nodded and one stared oddly at Fionna. The blonde felt her face flush and she ducked her head in the opposite direction.

One of the men stood up and nodded at his friend. They whispered and Gumball slowly led Fionna forward. "It was a pleasure to talk gentlemen, but money is rare and so is my time. I wouldn't want to waste the night stalling."

The two nodded but the one on the ground remained silent, eyes digging into Fionna's soul. She begged in her mind for him to look away. To join his friends. To forget they ever passed through.

The man did indeed stand up and caught up to his friends, but he slapped the others on the shoulders, shot a look back and talked in a rushed whisper. The other two grew silent and their eyes bore into the blonde and her instructor.

Fionna glanced at Gumball who didn't pay attention to the men they had passed. She tugged at his arm, looking back and felt horror shoot through her when she realized they had begun to follow.

"Gumball...I really think-"

"Fionna, stay quiet."

"But Gumball-"

"Shh!"

"Gumball!"

A bullet zipped by and Gumball's eyes widened, craning his neck to view the three gangsters. One had taken out a gun and the others took out pocket knives.

"Fionna, run."

The blonde couldn't remember a time when she had ran so fast. Her red head companion wheezed behind her as bullets and cries flew at them from behind.

Footsteps echoed up and down the alley and tears whizzed off of Fionna's face. She couldn't tell what sound belonged to who or where she was going. She just wanted to get away and fast.

A loud "OOPH!" was heard behind her and Gumball fell to the floor hard. Fionna skidded to a stop and tripped to reach Gumball. The man clutched his leg, face twisted in pain. Blood dribbled down his leg and stained his pants. The gangsters were catching up and Fionna swung Gumball's arm around her shoulder.

"We're not giving up yet, Gumball..."

A force pushed the blonde over and she struggled to hold onto the red head. She waited for the pain but it didn't come. She propped herself up and her face grew white. Gumball's chest had been torn open and blood gushed everywhere. His once vivid blue eyes stared up at the sky in an unforgiving pale hue.

Fionna crawled to him and nudged him. The man ceased to make a noise and the blonde's panic filled her ears and drowned out the gunshots and cries of the mobsters.

With shaky hands, Fionna wrapped them gently around Gumball and began to drag. His body was so much heavier than hers and with limp arms and legs, he might as well have been made of lead.

A noise pierced Fionna's hearing beside her and she let out a scream. A "rat-a-tat-tat" reeled over and over again and the cries of the three men filled her ears. When the noise stopped, Fionna could hear the men get up from the ground and run at them. Strong arms propelled Fionna up and onto her feet, pushing her in a direction. A weight slipped into her hand and a husky voice breathed into her ear. "Run."

Fionna did as she was told and ran. She didn't know where or why, but her mind played the image of Gumball over and over in her head. Was he okay? Should she find help?

Someone was running next to her and she finally gained the courage to look. Bright blue eyes and raven hair filled her vision and hate bubbled in her chest.

The two came to a locked gate that blocked their only real way out. Marshall worked at the lock and glanced over at his shoulder, tucking his gun under his arm.

"Fi, if they get any closer, you need to shoot. Don't think, just shoot."

The blonde realized that the weight in her hands was a simple shot gun. The heaviness of the weapon sunk in her hands and struggled to slide through her fingers.

The men bolted at them with rabid eyes. One clutched his bloodied side and the other streaked ahead, struggling to reload his gun.

Marshall played with the lock harder, taking out a wire from his pocket and worked at the key hole. His pace quickened and he glanced back at the gangsters. "Fionna, you need to shoot."

One of the men stepped into the ten foot marker. "Fionna, you need to shoot. Now!" Fionna raised the gun, hands shaking. The men grew closer and closer to where she could see the blood lust in their eyes. "GOD DAMN IT, FIONNA. SHOOT!"

Bang. Bang. The blonde didn't remember pulling the trigger. She didn't see the bullets leave the gun or whether they had hit nor not. Time slowed down and one man dropped dead to the ground. The other gangsters slid and ran in the opposite direction.

A "click" was heard and the gate swung open. "Come on." Fionna dropped the gun and Marshall dragged her away from the alley. She pulled at her arm and ran for the gate. The raven haired man grabbed her around the waist and she flailed her arms to wriggle away. His grip tightened and he ducked his head into her back to avoid being hit.

"Let me go!"

Her voice was shrill and filled with terror. Was that really her voice? It didn't sound like her. It couldn't be her. Marshall hissed into her back and he set her down and shoved her in the opposite direction. She knew it wasn't meant to hurt, but a dull throb pulsed under her skin and she fell to the ground.

"I need to go back, Marshall. We need to go back."

"Fionna, if we go back, we'll get killed. Now come on."

Fionna flinched out of the way of his welcoming embrace and shook her head, tears streaming down her face like a never ending waterfall.

"Gumball...he needs us. He needs us, Marshall. If we don't help him he could die-"

"He's dead, Fionna. You can't help him. We might as well get out of here and protect ourselves. Now come on."

Marshall stood beside her and sighed, helping her up and led her away with care down other alleys and streets and to the apartment complex.

The blonde felt numb in places she didn't think could be numb. Her heart thumped in her chest and it deafened her. Her blood seemed to stop flowing in her veins and for a few moments she forgot how to breathe.

Fionna didn't know how they got into the building so fast or how he managed to drag her up the flights of stairs to his apartment. But he sat her down on his bed and the details on the walls amplified.

Marshall ducked into the bathroom. Light coughs escaped the room followed by the faint sound of running water. As quickly as it began, it stopped and Marshall picked Fionna up, entered the bathroom and sat her in the barely filled tub.

The water was lukewarm but it made the blonde shiver. Marshall sat on the closed toilet and took a shirt from the floor. He dabbed it in the water and began to wash her arms, legs, and head.

Fionna didn't understand why he was washing her. She wasn't dirty. She lifted her hands and was met with her skin covered in dried blood. It was dark and cracking and Fionna didn't have to guess to know that it was Gumball's.

Marshall took one of her arms and scrubbed at the blood. He leaned over to the sink and snatched the bar of soap sitting their, bringing it over to lather it over the now damp DNA.

Fionna's mouth tightened and she clenched her jaw, the tears spewing out faster than before. Low humming filled the room and in a way it soothed the blonde's nerves. It was jazzy and faint enough where it could be mistaken for a radio somewhere else in the flat.

Marshall took Fionna's face in his hand and gently dabbed at her tears. His voice held a light husk and Fionna closed her eyes, the tears stopping. Her heart slowed down and time seemed to move a tiny bit faster.

The raven haired young man turned and placed the rag in the sink, rubbing his hands on his jeans to rid of blood and dirt that had clung to him. He leaned over and unplugged the drain of the tub.

"I killed that man, didn't I?"

Marshall froze and tensed up. Fionna could see a vein lightly pop from his neck and disappear back under the skin in a blink of an eye. She let her eyes sit on him and watched as he pulled back from the tub. The water draining around her and Marshall held her gaze, sucking on his lower lip as he contemplated his answer.

Finally he sighed and closed his eyes. "Yes you did, Fionna. But you saved ours in the process."

He led her arms around his neck and he lifted her from the tub, placing her on the tiled floor and picked up a towel, proceeding to dry her arms and legs. He dried her hair and cheeks, letting his thumb gently glide over her skin before he pulled away and wrapped the towel around her body and picked her up.

Marshall carried her into the main room and placed her on the bed. Fionna clung to the towel as though it were the only thing on that planet that kept her warm. Marshall found an oversized shirt and tugged it over her head and guided her arms through the sleeves.

The shirt was cozy and held her in the embrace she needed. She brought her now clean hands up and gazed at them. Marshall ran his fingers through his hair and sat beside the wall opposite of her, leaning his back against it.

Fionna turned her hands at different angles, trying to catch a glimpse of any sign of blood. Of any sign that the events that had unfolded through the night actually occurred. But her hands were spotless and she shook them a few times, willing for the blood to come back. Willing to be back in the alley, back at her home where she could invite Gumball inside of her, Cake, and Lorn's apartmen and he'd still be alive.

A whine filled Fionna's ears and she was shocked to discover that the sound had escaped from her. It eased to a garbled sob and she bit her lower lip, willing for it to stop.

Marshall lifted his head and watched her for a moment. "Fi, it's okay. Don't cry. We're safe. We're-"

"Stop it! Just stop it, Marshall!"

She snapped her head up, eyes wide and filled with so much emotion it made Marshall flinch. The blonde inhaled, hands shaking. "I...Gumball's really dead?" Again, that damn whisper. She thought about repeating herself but she could see by the look on Marshall's face he had heard her.

"Yes...Fionna. He's dead. They shot him square in the chest. Even if he had survived the shot, he would have died seconds after. It didn't matter if we went back or not, he'd still be dead Fionna. You can't bring him back."

Fionna's lip trembled and she brought her hand up to her mouth, letting out a sob. "I should have died. I should have...if you hadn't sucked me into this he'd still be alive. Gumball didn't deserve to die. This is my fault. Oh my God, if I had just minded my own business...oh my God..."

Marshall scooted closer to her and reached his arm out. "Fi..."

She slapped his hand away. "Don't call me that!" Her voice was shrill and sharp. "That's not my name! It's Fionna. Not Fi. I'm not some pet for you to drag around with." She spat her words out, shrinking away from him by moving across the bed.

"Fionna, please, you need to calm-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Her voice rose and he was sure if someone had been passing by outside, they'd hear her. Marshall grimaced but refused to back down. "My best and only friend was killed tonight. If you hadn't gone and called me your GIRL, he'd still be alive. I know he doesn't mean a thing to you, but Gumball was always there for me at school. Always making me feel safe and like I had someone to go to when times were tough. Gumball was the kindest and most honest man I've ever met and the world needed someone like him to keep the hope rolling. Now he's dead and it's all my fault."

Fionna sniffled and rubbed at her eyes, letting her voice drop. "And I killed a man. With a gun. Oh my God. I've never used a gun before. Did I kill him? Oh, my God. Oh, my God." She raised her hands and they shook hard.

Tears fell to the mattress and Fionna leaned over, snuggling her head into her legs and letting out violent sobs after sobs.

Moments passed where she just bent over like that, shaking and sobbing. A migraine was forming in the depths of her head and her eyes stung every time she blinked.

A calloused hand ran down her back comfortingly and Marshall tugged her into his arms and sat her in his lap. Fionna struggled to pry away but he was too strong for her. He led her head to his shoulder and she gave in to the warmth of his clothing and the comfort of his arms.

He rocked her lightly back and forth, back and forth. The humming started up again and she could feel the sound vibrate in his throat and chest. Fionna felt her eyes grow heavy and she willed herself to stay away but she knew it was of no use. Her eyelids fell and Fionna felt her body slip away into a comforting darkness.


	11. Daddy's Little Monster

_**"No, this is not the beginning of a new chapter in my life; this is the beginning of a new book! That first book is already closed, ended, and tossed into the seas; this new book is newly opened, has just begun! Look, it is the first page! And it is a beautiful one!"**_

_**― C. Joybell C.**_

Blankets hugged Fionna's body, burying her in a comforting heat. Outside, the wind howled and groaned against the window and the blonde opened her eyes expecting home. But the familiar photos on the walls were not there. Instead, she was met by the peeling paint of the walls of Marshall's apartment.

Fionna closed her eyes, her head reeled with a migraine. Her body was relaxed and sunk into the mattress beneath her. The blonde's eyes stung and she didn't have to look in a mirror to know that they were bloodshot.

Marshall sat on his knees, back turned toward her. He fidgeted with a rifle, cleaning the weapon in slow rhythms. Now and then he'd lift the gun and examine it with his closely with his eyes. Fionna tasted bile in her mouth and she wanted to turn away.

"You're sick."

Marshall glanced at Fionna over his shoulder and went back to cleaning the weapon. "Morning, sleeping beauty."

Fionna sat up, some of the blankets sliding off of her. The motion made her head spin and she held her forehead with her hand.

Marshall nodded at the rifle, satisfied, and placed it gently into a case. He closed the lid and slid it beside the front door and wiped his hands on his jeans. His shirt clung to his toned shoulders and Fionna laid back down, doing her best to hide her blush.

The raven haired young man stood up and stretched. Fionna closed her eyes. She felt like the world was spinning around her and the bed was her only safety net.

Marshall knelt down beside the bed and brushed his fingers across Fionna's forehead. She jerked her head away and immediately regretted her actions. The world around her spun out of control, just like her life.

Fionna listened to the man's footsteps as they clunked to the bathroom, the opening and closing of a medicine cabinet, the sound of running water and the soft pitter patter as Marshall made his way back to the bed.

A cold washcloth was placed on her head and Marshall lifted her head up to take a sip from a glass of water. He pressed a pain killer to her lips but she turned her head in refusal. Marshall sighed.

"Don't be stubborn. Just take the medicine."

"Why should I believe anything you say anymore?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're Hunson's son."

Marshall's fingers tensed around the medication. "Your little friend told you?"

Fionna felt her face flush and she knew it wasn't from the migraine. "Yes. Gumball told me. But why didn't you tell me before?"

"If I had told you, you wouldn't have gone along with me."

True. If Fionna had known right away who he was, she would have never gone back to him. Never would have left the comfort of her home and work and would have been kicked from above the Tree Fort by the Gambinos. The last bit made the blonde frown. She knew she should thank him. But he was an Rossi. Son of the devil himself.

"Why."

"Why what?"

"Why'd you protect me? I mean nothing to you."

"Look, just take the medication, Fionna.

"Answer my question!"

"Take the damn medication!"

Marshall Lee through down the medication and water, standing up and kicking a nightstand over. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the piece of furniture. Fionna flinched, anger bubbling within her.

"You're just like your father."

Marshall's muscles tensed and a vein pulsed in his neck. "I'm nothing like my father."

"I honestly don't see a difference."

The room fell silent. Only the moans of the wind outside whistled along the building, trying to find a way in. Fionna craned her neck to look at Marshall. He stood there for so long, Fionna wondered if she should say something.

After a moment, the raven haired young man slammed his back into the wall and slid down to meet the ground. A lost look played across his face and regret thumped in Fionna's chest.

Fionna sat up and eased her legs over the side of the bed. She scooped up the pain killers and lifted up the glass, examining what's left of its contents. She glanced at him and forced the medication down her throat and sipped what she could of the water. She set the cup down and wiped at her mouth, watching Marshall slowly mess with his hair with one hand, the other draped over his knees.

"I'm sor-"

"It's fine. Just forget it."

The blonde snapped her mouth shut and gazed down at her feet. Her hate was gone but resentment still resided in her heart.

"Why did you protect me?" Softer. So much softer. It sounded so weird. So human. So vulnerable.

Marshall slowly rubbed at his temple with his fingers, eyes fluttering up to meet hers. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked. But she wanted...no...NEEDED to know. Why protect her? They barely knew each other. Why would someone like him go out of his way to protect someone like her? It made no sense.

"I felt like I owed you a favor."

"Favor?"

Marshall closed his eyes. "For mistaking you to be a spy. For dragging you through New York City and fucking things up."

Fionna felt her mouth fall open. So that was it. She rubbed at the spot where the stitches were and grimaced at the memory of their encounter.

They held each other's gaze and Fionna brought her knees up, hugging them. She sucked on her bottom lip and glancing at the floor, feeling Marshall's eyes still on her.

"I'm sorry for saying you're like your father."

"Don't be. You have every right to compare me to him."

Fionna fiddled with her hands.

"Why aren't you...? I mean...why...?"

"Why aren't I with him right now?"

Fionna nodded.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can't stand being around him. Tried teaching me the ropes but gave up when he didn't think I didn't get it."

"Did you?"

Marshall snorted. "Of course. I just didn't want to get into it with him. It's always expectation this, murder that. Execute this person, teach this other person a lesson. I hated it."

Fionna was confused. Why would he? He's the spawn of his father. Fionna couldn't fathom the fact that the man sitting before her didn't want his father's responsibilities. Wasn't interested in taking part in the activities he was sure to inherit once his father kicked the bucket. All at once, things were pieced together in her mind and she gave herself a mental slap.

"You hate your father."

"Bingo." He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. Fionna opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water gasping to breathe. Marshall watched her reactions closely and Fionna inhaled, closing her mouth.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Marshall shrugged, smiling. His eyes lit up with deviation. "We're stuck with each other, now. Might as well just come out and say it. You would have found out eventually, anyway."

Fionna rubbed at her cheek, confused. "Stuck?"

"You don't think you can just go back to your normal life, right?"

Of course she could. Why couldn't she? Why would he say that? She could walk right out the door and never see him again if she wanted to. Marshall scanned her eyes and he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.

"Fi...you're my girl. Everyone knows that now. Even if you wanted to pretend this never happened, the Gambinos would be on you and your family for your home, or worse, your lives. If I took my men away and my crest, you're Mafia meat. Everyone would kill to do their worse to you."

Fionna froze. She should have figured that out. Why didn't she figure that one out? The blonde dropped to the bed and stared up at the ceiling. What was she supposed to do? Play pretend for the rest of her life?

Marshall cleared his throat, letting out a strained cough. "I'm guessing you hate my father as well?"

"What gave it away?"

The young man chuckled and wheezed. Fionna rolled over onto her side and played with a blanket. She smoothed the fabric out with her fingers, playing with the creases that refuse to be flattened.

Fionna watched as Marshall crawled to his closet and sat on his knees, digging through the small space. "So what is it about my father you hate exactly?"

"You want a list?"

"If it makes you happy."

"I'm sick of gangsters walking around. I'm sick of going to school fearing for my life. I'm sick of living in fear knowing my home could be taken away from me any day. I'm tired of always having to keep my eyes on the ground and living life sheltered. I'm tired of seeing the same grey sky and not being able to go anywhere because I'm broke thanks to the damn Mafia. And it's all your father's fault." She spat out the word 'father' as though it were poison in her mouth.

Marshall chuckled and found the item he was looking for. His back concealed the object and Fionna craned her neck to see what it could be.

"Those are all good reasons."

Fionna nodded and gave up on fiddling with the blankets. She sighed, frustrated. "So where do we go from here? I just play the role of your girlfriend and say 'fuck you' to your dad?"

"Actually, I have a better idea."

Fionna propped up on her elbow, trying to make up her mind whether or not she was going to like where he was going. "Oh?"

Marshall stood up and grinned at her from over his shoulder. His arms jerked and a clicking sound was heard. He brought his arms to his side and revealed the fully loaded pistol in his hand.

"We're going to assassinate my father."


	12. Home is Where the Heart Is

**_"I'm not anyone, I'm just myself; whatever I am, I am something, and now I'm something you can't help."_**

**_― Ray Bradbury, the Martian Chronicles_**

Marshall's words played on repeat in her head as she walked home and greeted Cake and Lorn. His instructions had been permanently engraved in her mind and she knew what she had to do.

She followed each step like he had said. Sure she had doubts. Hesitations. Moments where she wanted to cry and spill the truth when the looks of disappointment came over Cake and Lorn's faces. Fionna wanted to chase after Cake when she ran off crying and beg her for forgiveness. To cling to Lorn and tell him how much she really would miss them. Tell them how much they meant to her. But she knew if she did any of that, she'd back down. And backing down meant death.

Her hand trembled when she signed the papers to drop out of school. The principle didn't even bat an eye. It shouldn't have been as bad as him giving her a disappointed look, but it was. At least he could have shown sympathy. Given her a reassuring talk. Let her know that things were going to be okay and that school would always be there for her if she changed her mind. But he didn't. He took out the papers and slid them over to her like there was no tomorrow. She scribbled her signature and she felt like part of her soul went with the sheets when the principle stamped them and locked them in a file. She wanted them back. To tear up the papers and tell him it was a big mistake. But it was too late. It was always too late.

The Fire Kingdom greeted her like an old friend. It was difficult to say goodbye. It took her an hour to give up her uniform and say her farewells. LSP gave her a nod of sympathy and told her he was "there for her and junk." Simone gave her a smirk and told her she was always welcome back. Deep down, Fionna knew she didn't really mean that. But if she could, she would take her up on that offer. Fabian said his goodbyes and gave her the smile she needed. He told her her job would always be there for her if or when she needed a job and she wanted to kiss his hands and feet. It took her that long to notice, but she really did love her job. Despite the harassment and revealing uniform, the Fire Kingdom had always been a second home to her for years and her coworkers weren't just coworkers but another family. Walking down the stairs from Fabian's office was lonely. Suddenly, she felt out of place. Amongst the waitresses serving and happy customers, she felt like an outsider. Like she didn't belong. And maybe she honestly didn't.

Fionna's room was stripped of everything she had. The boxes were piled up and the place had never looked so...abandoned. This was the space she called home since she could remember. These walls held her when she needed to be held and gave her the comfort she needed to escape from this world she lived in. The ceiling shielded her from the cruelty of the city and her floors kept her up when she felt downer than down. Suddenly, it wasn't just a room. It was HER room. HER living space. HER breathing memory that plagued the corners and walls giving it the life it had for years. But now, now it wasn't her room. It was just an empty space that used to house someone she used to be. Fionna let her fingers dance across the chipped paint of the walls and her feet scuff the floors. It was hers. No matter who she became or what would become of her. The blonde took out a lipstick, tears in her eyes and wrote on the walls. She wrote until her hand cramped up and she could write no more. But in the end, it'd be worth it. It was always worth it.

The black limo came for her when the sun disappeared over the horizon of the city. It's shiny black windows reflected the young woman Fionna had become. She adjusted her bunny hat in the glass and turned to say goodbye to her apartment and to the club. Cake and Lorn wished to stay inside. She didn't blame them. She betrayed them in every way possible. She didn't deserve a goodbye. She didn't deserve a proper departure. But somewhere in her heart, Fionna ached for the love of her sister and, deep down, adopted brother. She would send them what she could to remind them that she would never forget them. Never stop loving them. Never stop being their "baby sister." She turned to the car and a chauffeur opened the door for her and she slid in. Men piled her boxes into a small truck and the limo pulled away. The lights of the Tree Fort lit up and became a burning green dot in the distance. The image would forever be etched into her memory.

A tall grey skyscraper came into view. She gazed at her new home and she closed her eyes. How could she ever learn to live in a building like that? The chauffeur escorted her out of the limo and up story upon story in an elevator that smelled of leather and pine.

Marshall was there to greet her. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She wanted to pull away and find a corner to curl up in a ball in. But as long as someone was watching, she knew better. Oh god, did she know better.

The flat took up the whole top floor of the skyscraper. It smelt of whiskey and cigarettes. The floor was tan, the walls a deep red. Only one man was used as a personal servant. An elderly gentlemen who still remembered how to smile without strain. He wore a tie of red and white because he loved peppermint.

Her room was large and lonely. The walls were dark and the carpet tickled her feet. The bed was dressed with dark blue satin sheets and a door led to her own personal bathroom. The peppermint butler set down her single suitcase beside the boxes with her things that had been brought up by the moving men. She sat on the bed and felt the soft fabric on her exposed legs. The butler smiled and stood in the doorway. "Call if there's anything you would like, miss. Anything at all." Fionna nodded. She imagined her sister walking into her former room right then and finding the words she had written on the wall. 'Here lies the memory of Fionna Venture, beloved sister of Cathleen Venture. Here lies a girl that will forever be the person she was before the fall. No matter what happens to her, she will always be a baby sister. The loyal friend of Bubba Gumpall. The hard working waitress of the Fire Kingdom and most importantly, the blonde girl with the bunny hat that everyone knew and loved. I love you all and don't you ever forget that.' Fionna could see Cake clasping her hands over her mouth and Lorn pulling her into a comforting embrace. "Also, welcome home." The butler smiled and left. She soaked in the bare walls and unwelcoming decor of the room. She rubbed her fingers against the fabric and wondered how she could ever call this place 'home.'


	13. Picture Perfect

**_"I am vehemently grateful that, by whatever means, I learnt to assume that loneliness should be in part pleasure, sensitizing and clarifying, and that it is even a truer bond among people than any kind of proximity."_**

**_― Marilynne Robinson_**

The night was young and the bedroom was covered in shadows when Fionna woke up. It was her first night living with Marshall and already she felt isolated.

Outside, the city buzzed and the sheets around her stifled her despite how chilly it was in the building. Fionna slid out of bed and walked to the window. The glass stretched from the ceiling to the floor and the blonde could see all of New York. The glowing lights winked at her and she could count the red dots where the fire of riots burned. It was mesmerizing.

Fionna pressed her fingers to the glass, her breath fogging up the window. Slowly, her view of the city disappeared behind the precipitation she gave off.

The blonde pushed herself away from the window and faced the dark room. Her mind wandered to The Tree Fort and wondered how her sister was doing. How the business was going. If any mobsters were bothering her. But she trusted Marshall's men to keep them safe when she couldn't.

Sleep left Fionna's body and she knew if she crawled back into bed she'd toss and turn for the rest of the night. It didn't feel right sleeping in something so expensive when Cake and Lorn were sleeping in cheap cloth. When Gumball was six feet in the ground.

Fionna clicked her door open and poked her head out into the hallway. It was pitch black and the blonde considered diving back into bed and attempting to sleep anyways. But she slid past the door and into the darkness.

Once her eyes adjusted, Fionna noted that the walls were bare and the blonde wondered what life was like for Marshall. She searched for pictures or portraits of him and his father but found nothing. Nothing to depict what kind of person he could be or the things he holds dear to his heart.

The blonde's fingers and toes led the way, inching along the walls and floor. She passed a black door and loitered outside. Marshall was in there. Whether he was sound asleep or wide awake, she didn't know. But light didn't peak from beneath the door and that was a good enough answer for her. She considered knocking on the door but thought better of it. What would she say? She couldn't sleep? Do something about it?

Fionna sighed and moved on. The hallway grew lighter and she came to the threshold of an archway. The opening was wide and moonlight shone through the opening. The blonde peeked her head in and met with the largest library she had ever laid eyes on. One wall was a giant window facing the city and bookshelves were built into the others. A piano sat off to the side and a couch had been placed in the middle of the room facing the window.

Fionna gently feathered the keys on the piano blindly. Her finger slipped and pressed a key, a deep note filling the air. She jerked her hand away but after a few moments the flat remained silent.

The city called to her. The riots rose up but couldn't meet the hight of the skyscraper and the souls of those killed in cross fires of gang fights rose into the air in forms of smoke and pollution against the city sky.

Fionna sat down on the couch and took in the view. Did she really use to live down there? The Hudson River glimmered in the night light. Just a forgotten strand of water that snaked through the walls of industry and residency.

It was funny. That time a week earlier Fionna was busy serving tables at the Fire Kingdom, bickering with Simone and LSP and cleaning up to go home and help Cake. Not sleeping. No, that was for early morning to noon. Not night.

In front of her stood a dark coffee table. Piles of books scattered the surface in lazy stacks. Titles from Bram Stoker and Anne Rice stuck out amongst the hard covers and paperbacks.

A light purple book that sat on top of the pile caught Fionna's eye. She grasped it with nimble fingers, bringing it to her lap and flipping the cover open. A photograph appeared on the first page.

The blonde was greeted by a bright blue sky with green trees and birds that touched the atmosphere in a way Fionna had never seen before. She brushed her fingers over the fluff of the white clouds and the outstretched wings of the blue jays and hawks.

Fionna flipped to another page and was met with a photograph of a burning desert. The sand blew in shades of oranges, yellows, and reds. A lone cactus stood erect in the sand and the sun set on the horizon in bursts of colourful flames. The blonde longed to jump into the photograph and watch the sun disappear over the vanishing line. Watch the sky burn and be replaced with thousands of stars that penetrate the virgin sky and feel the breeze of night approaching upon her skin.

The blonde closed her eyes, imagining the baking heat on her skin and the sweat that would be sure to be on the back of her neck and streaming down her temples. For a brief second, she was there, feeling the sand beneath her feet and the hiss of the wind as it combed through her hair and the chill that crept up her arms as the day transitioned to the night.

"Can't sleep?"

Fionna jolted and the book fell out of her lap. Marshall plopped down beside her, bending down and picked up the book. He offered it to her and the blonde snatched it, holding the book to her chest protectively.

She suddenly felt self conscience sitting there in her tank top and boxer shorts. She hugged the book closer to her and glanced at Marshall. He wore long pajama pants and a muscle shirt. Fionna relaxed when she realized he wasn't paying anyattention to her. His gaze was focused on the decaying metropolis outside.

The two sat on the couch and gazed at the city. Fionna sat as far away from Marshall as she possibly could on the love seat, tucking her legs under her and silently wished he would leave.

"Pretty."

Fionna felt herself blush. "W-what?"

Marshall pointed at the city. "Pretty. You know, when you take a step back and look at it from a different angle."

Fionna nodded, the blush leaving her face.

"Whatchya reading?"

Fionna glanced down at the book and handed it to him. Marshall took it, their skin brushing. Fionna jerked her hand away but Marshall didn't notice. He looked over the book and smiled.

"I didn't know you liked photography."

He opened the book and flipped through the pages. "Love it. My mom liked to take pictures a lot when I was a kid. Hung the house with portraits of us as a family. She took pictures of the city and anything she could capture on camera, really."

"Does she not take pictures anymore?"

Marshall closed the book, his electric blue eyes growing pale. "No. Not anymore. Dad took down all of the photos she took and put them in a closet when she passed away."

Fionna bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Still."

Silence. Fionna rested her head on her arm and she watched Marshall from the corner of her eye. He set the book down and walked over to a bookcase. He pushed the ladder and hopped on. The speed slowed down and he climbed a few rungs, eyes glancing at the book spines and picked one out. Climbing down, Marshall sat closer to Fionna than he had before on the couch, causing the girl to shy away.

Marshall opened the book he had fetched, peering at the inside with sentimental eyes. Fionna leaned in hesitantly to see what was on the page, wary of the raven haired man. Marshall lifted a finger and beckoned for her to join him. The blonde scooted over enough to where she could see the page and gasped.

A photograph of a young Marshall sat in between a much younger Hunson and a beautiful woman Fionna had never seen before. She had Marshall's tanner skin and raven hair pulled into a bun. A business suit hugged her curvy frame and a wide grin pierced her lips, smiling for the two men beside her. The younger Marshall pouted away, arms crossed and Hunson stared at the camera with a blank stare.

"I was six in that picture. My mom had figured out how to use the timer setting and forced us to sit down and take a picture. My dad was in the middle of work and I wanted to play with the model train I had gotten for my birthday."

Fionna felt a smile tug at her lips. The raven haired man turned to the next page. The photo captured an image of an infant Marshall laying on a couch completely asleep. His chubby baby belly was exposed and drool trickled down his mouth. The blonde scooted closer and leaned in, turning the page herself.

The next photograph was of Marshall when he was eight. He scowled at the camera, his small frame hunched over a crime book written for children. His hand was slightly raised, ready to either strike the camera or hide his face.

Fionna didn't realize how far she had moved to view the photographs. Her shoulder brushed Marshall's arm and she could feel the heat his body radiated. The blonde was surprised to find the closeness comforting. Now that she was forced from her home to play the role put on her, Marshall was her only source of comfort. Only source to really talk to besides the peppermint butler. The person whom she would conspire with to risk their lives to do...what exactly? Kill the Godfather?

Marshall flashed the rest of the pictures of his family in the early stages of his life. It made Fionna wonder if Cake had any photographs of her when she was younger. She knew they probably didn't. Once mom and dad had been killed, they had to take what they needed. And photographs were just pieces of paper taking up space.

Thumbing through the rest of the pictures, one caught Fionna's eye and she jammed her finger on the page before she could lose it. Marshall filed back to the page and the blonde jerked her head back in shock.

A young Marshall sat in white sand beside the bluest ocean Fionna had ever seen. The sea was calm and not a single cloud be seen in the sky. The blonde felt her mouth open and shut and her body lightly shake. Could that be real?

Fionna searched the photograph for any indication that it could be a fake. Nothing stuck out. The sand looked soft, warm and welcoming. The sky was never ending and the sea was so clear she could easily see where the sand met the water under the surface. Marshall inhaled her reaction and seemed to read her mind.

"It was taken somewhere in the Caribbean. Just me and my mom. My dad had to stay hom for business but my mom wanted to show me what the world was like outside of the states. It was the last time I got to see something like that, but I never wanted to leave. The water was perfect and I found so many shells and sea animals. My mom took tons of photos that my dad burned after she died. He hated the fact she took me outside of the states."

That came as a shock to Fionna. "Why?"

"Because I'm his heir. He didn't want me to see what the world was like outside of his country. It doesn't matter now that the Mafia's close to fully taking over Europe. It's a matter of time before they rape the beauty of this." He pointed at the ocean and drew his finger to the sand.

Fionna gazed away, feeling tears tickling her eyes. "It doesn't have to be." Her voice was gentle and it lightly cracked. Marshall shifted beside her and the room plunged into silence.

It felt as though hours ticked by before Marshall finally nodded and ran his hand through his hair. "You're right. It doesn't."

Fionna grasped the strap of her tank top and fiddled with it. "It doesn't?"

Marshall turned and met her gaze. Fionna felt her face flush and prayed that the darkness would hide her blush. The man scanned her face and Fionna felt her shoulders stiffen. "No, it doesn't." He tapped his finger on the photo. "The world was meant to look like this, Fionna. Not the grimy city you know. It's not extinct. At least, not just yet." His voice trailed off and he peered back down at the photo.

Fionna brought her hand over to the photograph and their fingers brushed. An electric spark ran through Fionna and she closed her eye, trying keep herself from jerking her hand away and curling up at the other end of the couch.

"Marshall, we could win this back. You're right. It's not the end. We can still turn this around."

"That's why I want to kill my father. As long as he's still the Godfather, the world will be like this. The longer he's alive, the shorter our time is to prevent our own apocalypse."

The idea of the world being like the states made Fionna's blood run cold. The Mafia was already battling for the land in Europe and Asia. She couldn't imagine grand places like the Colosseum be destroyed. The Eiffel Tower be completely disintegrated like they had done to the Statue of Liberty. The image of the decaying stump where Lady Liberty had once stood brought the taste of bile back into Fionna's mouth.

Marshall closed the book and placed his hands on it. "I know you dislike me for fucking your life over, Fionna. And I don't blame you. If I could let you go without interfering with your life or other Mafia families harassing you and your family, I would. Believe me." He inhaled. "Just... try to put up with me. Until we can claim the throne and turn things around. So future generations can walk the streets without fear and explore a world without the shit my dad and Lucy Luciano has gotten us into. We can do that, Fionna. You just...I need you to trust me, Fi. I know that's probably asking a lot, but I need you to trust me until we get there. You can call me out anytime you like, back down out of something that makes you uncomfortable and go at your own pace. I just need you to trust me."

Fionna closed her eyes. She knew he was right. She wasn't just Fionna anymore. She was Marshall's girl. And even if she wanted to back out, she couldn't. She just couldn't. What if people grew suspicious of not seeing them together? That could hurt the both of them. Badly.

The blonde opened her eyes and gazed down at the photograph. At the bright blue sky and clear water and white sand. Even if Marshall was lying to her, Fionna longed for even the slightest chance of hope for a world like the one in Marshall's photograph and the books and magazine clippings she had. His idea was tempting and she knew she had to learn to trust him whether she liked it or not.

Glancing up at the man, Fionna drank in his soft features in the moonlight. The emotion in his eyes betrayed the calm features of his face and Fionna did the only thing she felt she could do. She leaned in, resting her head against his arm and closed her eyes.


	14. When Do We Start?

**_"Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours."_**

**_-Vera Nazarian_**

Gumball was very much alive and he stood in Fionna's room, blood trailing down his body and staining the floor in sickening dark red puddles.

Fionna felt her eyes widen from her place in her bed and her mouth trembled, trying to find the voice within her to scream.

Gumball's chest was ripped open and the blonde could see his internal organs. His heart beated in his chest cavity, blood squirting out with each pulse. His eyes had dulled from their cheery blue to a deep black and they bore into Fionna's very core.

"Fionna." His voice came out as a raspy whisper. The blonde shuddered but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't look away. Those eyes captured her, accusing her of so much.

"G-gumball?"

The red head inhaled, the air sucked into his lungs making an unholy hissing noise. "Fionna, how could you do this? How could you do this to me?"

Tears streamed down Fionna's face but she didn't feel it. Couldn't feel it. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." She mouthed the words over and over again but the words didn't echo up to her ears.

Gumball's face scrunched up in anger. "Fionna, how could you do this? To me? What did I ever do to you?" He inhaled, his lungs whistling and lowered his voice. "You did this to me, Fionna."

"I'm sorry."

"You did this to me!"

"I'm sorry!"

Fionna let out a whimper, her voice shrill. A worm crawled out of Gumball's chest cavity and puss bubbled on some parts of his wounds. He took a step toward Fionna and the blonde sat up in her bed, clinging to her sheets.

"I was always there for you, Fionna. I helped your family out numerous times. I gave you an education-"

"I'm sorry."

"I gave you a sweater when you couldn't afford one..."

Fionna screwed her eyes shut, teeth chattering in her mouth and her body shaking with sobs. "I'm sorry." She buried her head into her pillow and threw the sheets over her, trembling and crying hard. Where was Marshall? Could he hear her? Peppermint butler?

"And I even tried to save you. Save you, Fionna. But here you are. Sleeping comfortably while I'm six feet under the ground!"

Gumball snatched the sheets off of Fionna and the girl sat up and opened her mouth to scream, kicking the sheets off of her and flailing her arms around to keep Gumball at bay. But Fionna's hands only met air.

The blonde opened her eyes to find the room lighter and the dead man was no where to be seen. Fionna panted and placed her hand over her chest, feeling her heart desperately knock within her.

Fionna slipped out of bed and dressed herself, hugging Marshall's shirt close to her. She could still feel her body vibrate in fear and she rubbed at her arms to calm herself down.

The sun rose over the skyscrapers outside, waking up the sleepy shadows of the buildings and putting the night life to rest. But not for long.

Fionna opened her door and stood in the frame. Numerous scents wafted through the hallway that made the blonde's mouth water. But remembering the bloody mess of the man she had once called her friend, she suddenly discovered that she had lost her appetite.

A white piece of paper was taped to her door and Fionna leaned in to read the scribbled handwriting.

Fi, I'll be in the study in my room. When you wake up, meet me in there and I can get you some food. Then we can start planning.

-M-

Fionna frowned and sighed and closed her bedroom door. She walked down the now lit hallway until she came to Marshall's bedroom. The door stood wide open and Fionna peeked her head in.

"Marshall?"

The room was dark and the walls were painted a royal purple. The furniture in his room was simple and incredibly gothic.

The headboard on the bed was black with a small silver skull etched into the center and the sheets and cover matched the shade of the walls.

A red couch was pushed off to the side, a small flat screen sat few feet away. Lanterns had been strung across the ceiling and a large gold and purple carpet covered the bare wooden floor boards. Albums from decades before, animal head busts and other rock and roll related items littered the walls creating a homey feeling Fionna wasn't quite used to.

The blonde walked into the room and let her eyes wander over the numerous nick knacks on the walls. Her gaze fell on the one item Fionna never would have guessed she'd find in Marshall's possession.

The item on the wall was a painting of Mother Mary and baby Jesus. The woman held the baby fondly in her arms, snow gathered around framing the two in a heavenly light. Faint halos circled their heads and Mary watched over her son with the softest look Fionna had ever seen before in her life. Not even Cake looked at her like that.

A door off to the side was cracked open and Fionna tip toed to it, peering in. Marshall stood over a desk humming to himself. His frame leaned over numerous papers and a map had been pinned to a cork board on the wall with a handful of white push pins jabbed into it.

Fionna shied away, wanting to go back to bed and hope Marshall would leave her alone. But the girl had leaned in too far and the door squeaked.

Marshall glanced over his shoulder and smiled cheerfully. Too cheerfully for Fionna's liking. "C'mon in, Fi. I have so much to tell you. Come on over."

He hunched over the papers and waved his hand, beckoning her over to him. Fionna sighed and allowed herself in. The room smelt of recently smoked cigars and the room was lit by a single bright chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Fionna dragged her feet until she stood beside him. She created a good gap between them, eyes flickering to the papers Marshall was looking over.

Numerous papers were scattered here and there, but many were locations ranging from restaurants, bars, opera houses off and on Broadway, and buildings considered "political" to the Mafia. Fionna frowned at the information and looked at Marshall for answers.

The man looked up and grinned at her. "I was able to track down my dad's schedule for the next two months. Can you believe that? Managed to hack his computer and check out the appointments he has."

Marshall pushed a paper toward her. It was printed out information on an opera house Fionna had passed by once. It stood tall and proud with windows inside of arches. It had been lit up and many mobsters with elegant girls hovered around the entrance to see the shows that were put on. Fionna never went that route again. The site of so many men and women in suits and dresses and the outline of guns in their pockets scared her. None of them saw her, but she couldn't imagine what could have if she had been seen.

"What about it?"

Marshall slid another piece of paper to her. This time it was a list of shows and the dates they'd be put on. A show had been highlighted for the week after and Fionna's eyes skimmed the title.

"Gulio Cesare?"

"My dad sees the show every year. Always has since I was a kid."

"Gulio Cesare...Julius Caesar? Wasn't he the Roman dictator that fell in love with Cleopatra?"

Marshall's eyebrows shot up. "You know about that?"

Fionna felt herself blush and crossed her arms. "I DID go to school, you know."

"Oh, I know. I'm just surprised. I didn't think they taught students anything prior the late eighteen hundreds."

"They don't. Not anymore. All we're supposed to learn about is the rise, fall, and the return of the Mafia in both America and Italy. However, Gumball-" Fionna felt her voice falter, remembering the red head. She hoped Marshall hadn't heard the crack in her voice. She avoided eye contact and continued. "took the liberty to teach me more outside of class when he could. Or when I had the time."

If Marshall had heard the quiver in her voice, he showed no signs of it. He nodded, eyebrows still raised and rubbed at the light stubble on his face.

"So, why Julius Caesar?"

"Gulio Cesare."

"Right. Why that? Why not any other opera? Aren't there tons?"

"Well, yes. But it was my mom's favorite."

Fionna felt her mouth form an "o." She squirmed beneath Marshall's gaze and broke eye contact. Sure she shouldn't feel anything for the walking horror they called the Godfather, but the idea itself was tragic and shocking. He had a heart underneath all of that cigar smoke and hard scowls. He's human and he lost someone he loved just like anyone else. Fionna hated him, but she could put that aside for a moment to sympathize with the monster of a man.

"So, where do we go from here? Do you know what day your father will be there?"

"No. And that's where we come in." He took back the papers and looked them over, shuffled through a pile and came out with a file. Marshall rolled out blue prints to the opera house and Fionna leaned in, trying to wrap her mind around the mass amount of text and squares on the papers and the building's outline.

Marshall pointed to an isolated box in the auditorium above the orchestra level. "That's where my dad always sits."

"How do you know?"

"It's my family's private box. No one's allowed in unless they ask permission from my father."

"Oh."

Marshall grinned. "We may not know when he'll be there, but it gives us time to scope the place out and find the right spot somewhere around the stage to set up the gun."

"Gun?" Fionna felt her blood freeze and she had to remember to take a breath.

Marshall walked over to the guitar case Fionna had first seen him with. It was black and beautiful without a single scratch on it's hard surface. Fionna wondered how he could take care of such a thing in a world like this. Maybe he just has numerous ones?

The raven haired man clicked open the case, revealing a polished black Dean EAB Acoustic Bass. Only when Fionna saw the slot where a chord could be placed did she realize it was electric. Her eyes widened at the luxury, wanting so desperately to run her fingers along its surface and strum a string. Her fingers itched at her side and she held them to her chest, crossing her arms and tucking her hands close to her body.

"Ugh, Marshall? Hate to break it to you but that is definitely not a gun. But I mean, hey, if you want to play your dad to death, don't mind me."

Marshall chuckled and placed his fingers into a crack in the exterior of the case. He lifted the shelf with the guitar up, uncovering the hidden compartment underneath. Fionna felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.

The young man gazed down and grinned at Fionna over his shoulder. He reached in and clicking noises were heard followed by a CLINK. Marshall stood up and turned.

In his hands rested a gun Fionna had never seen before. The barrel was long and unforgiving. There was a grip for the shooter to hold and a miniature stand if it's killer wanted to attack at a lower angle. A gun chamber held the hundreds of thousand or so of bullets ready to be launched into the flesh of an awaiting victim.

Fionna held her hand out and placed it on the table, feeling the blood drain from her face. Marshall grinned wider and slid his fingers across the sleek black surface as though he was holding something precious.

"You're right. I don't think this kind of instrument would create the kind of music you had in mind. But it does leave the sweetest echo in your ears."

Fionna's lip trembled and she hid it with her hand, pretending to rub at her cheek. "Is that what we're going to be using to kill him with?"

"God, no. My father's men were the ones who uncovered this treasure in Israel a month ago. Got this shipped to me just yesterday. Sweet, right?" He caressed the length of the gun and Fionna felt a tremble quiver through her. "Fires eight hundred fifty to one thousand fifty rounds per minute on gas regulator position one and nine hundred fifty to one thousand one hundred fifty on position two." He looked up, his smile fading to a serious line and his eyes met hers. "But this isn't the gun we're using. Oh, no. If we fail and my father or his men discover this gun, he'd know it was me. And if he knew it was us..."

Fionna leaned in with anticipation. She waited for him to continue but she knew he wasn't going to. He didn't have to say what would happen. If they got caught, they could run all they want, but eventually they'd be found and killed. Maybe not Marshall. Maybe he'd suffer in prison. But her? No. She'd be decapitated on national television and her head would be displayed in Times Square as a reminder to everyone else what would happen if you tried to take down the Godfather.

Marshall took apart what he could of the gun and set it carefully back into the case, hiding it behind the guitar and clicking the case shut.

The blonde watched the muscles in his back clench underneath his button up black dress shirt as he stood up and turned to look at her. She tried to read the emotion behind his intense eyes but couldn't put the shadows she saw to words.

"I'll be using a sniper for this. The only problem is I need to know exactly where to put the gun so I can see my father and his men at all times but they can't see me. We'll scope out the theatre as best as we can until the day he does show up."

"How do you know he won't show up the first night of the show?"

Marshall snorted. "He never does. He hates being the first at any show or at...at anything, really. As a kid he'd hate to be first one to show up at a meeting or the first at a dinner party. Since he began to see this show years ago, he refused to see it on the first night each year. It's because if he shows up right away, all attention would be on him and it'd ruin his mood to see it. It's a private thing for him. Because it reminds him of my mom." Marshall rubbed at his stubble, thinking. "I'd say Wednesday. That would be the third show that week. Great excuse to drop in almost unnoticed."

Fionna nodded and peered down at the blue prints. She scanned the birds eye view of the atrium and hovered her finger over the box Hunson would be in. She drew her finger across to the stage and tapped at it, thinking. Her mind spun and she jolted with an idea.

The blonde looked up at the raven haired man and tapped again at the blue prints. "The catwalk."

"The what?"

"The...the...ugh..." She waved her hand, growing frustrated with her memory. "The catwalk above the stage for the crew to work the lights and everything. I know they don't use those anymore but we could use catwalk to set up the gun. Maybe there's a way for you to see your father from up there? He wouldn't see you. It'd be too dark."

Marshall opened his mouth and then shut it, thinking. He stood beside her and looked over the blue prints. "Fionna, I think you may be on to something." He took out a pen and scribbled some notes to the side of the building's plans.

Fionna felt proud of herself. Dumb, little Fionna said something smart for once. Would Gumball be proud? Probably not. She could pretend, though.

"Come Monday, I'll sneak behind stage and walk around to see where I can set up. I'll have Pierre make us fake badges if need be to sneak back stage. I'll dress up as a crew member. You'll..." He glanced at her. His eyes narrowed and he frowned. A moment later his frown lifted into a smile and an idea flashed across his face. "We can find a uniform for you so you can cater to my father's box." Marshall lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. His touch left goosebumps trailing across her face and a blush crept to her cheeks. "We'd have to dye your hair. But I doubt he'd recognize you. If you don't make eye contact with his guards, I doubt they will either. That way you can check up on him whenever you want. It gives you access no one else will get so you won't be busted if something does slip."

Fionna nodded. Part of her wanted to be logical and think the plan over. It sounded like it could have loopholes. Did it? Her eyes flickered up to Marshall's and found him staring back. She took a step away and smiled nervously. Whether the plan had loopholes or not, it was Marshall. If she couldn't trust him, who would?

Marshall glanced her over and smiled. "Ready to take down the Godfather?"

Fionna licked her lips and forced a smile, her heart thumping in her chest. "When do we start?


	15. When the Fat Lady Sings

_**Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.**_

_**-William Shakespeare**_

The opera house was crowded and it took Fionna everything she had not to flee from the building, cry, or have a panic attack on the floor.

For the past hour, mobsters with their girls and family members strolled in one after the other until they filled the grand lobby. Many were served drinks and chatted casually, mingling from one party to the next.

Fionna tugged at her clothes, glancing around the room but attempted to hide her discomfort. Her blonde locks had been dyed a dark brown and tucked onto her head into a tight bun.

She wore black satin heels hidden under brown slacks. It took her an hour back at Marshall's to practice walking in them days before.

The shoes were highly uncomfortable and Fionna had to concentrate when she walked. They weren't anything like the heels she wore at The Fire Kingdom. The velvet felt smooth against her skin but the straps dug into her feet and Fionna wasn't looking forward to cleaning up the blisters later she was sure to have later on that night.

A bell chimed and Fionna jumped. She relaxed once she realized it was just letting everyone know that the show was starting soon. The blonde helped escort the mobsters to their rightful seats and glanced at the stairs leading to Hunson's box. Was he there?

That Wednesday night, the theatre was less crowded than it had been Monday and Tuesday. For that, Fionna was thankful. That meant less people asking her for drinks, less people bugging her about seats and less of a chance she'd be busted as a false worker.

Fionna passed the stairs as the lights dimmed in the auditorium. Two men in fedoras and suits now guarded the steps to Hunson's box and Fionna felt her heart leap in her chest. She'd have to compliment Marshall's ability to have perfect timing. But for now, it was show time. Literally.

The blonde took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. She went over Marshall's instructions in her head and set them on repeat. It was funny to think that weeks ago, the idea of even going near this place would have terrified Fionna. But there she was, walking towards the most intimidating guards she had ever seen.

Fionna took out the card Marshall had given her and with a practiced calm voice, said: "Margaret Jones. I'm here to guarantee the Godfather enjoys his time here at the theatre." She held her breath and took her chance to look into the beady black eyes that peered down at her from under neath the shadow their fedoras casted on their faces.

One guard leant in and looked the card over. Satisfied, he nodded at his coworker and they stood aside for her. Fionna calmly ascended the stairs, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent her from grinning or letting out an excited noise. This was so easy.

She opened the red wooden door and the sight of the back of Hunson's head drained all the courage and cocky feelings inside of her.

The auditorium was dark and the stage was lit up, making Hunson's head a menacingly still silhouette. Shadows danced across the box from the stage and Fionna remembered why she was there.

She took a step closer and Marshall's words echoed in her head. 'Try not to let him see your face. If he does, don't worry. Just try not to let him have a good look.'

It wouldn't be too difficult to follow Marshall's advice. The box was dark and even if he did see her, he probably wouldn't take in much. She took a step forward and felt her legs lightly shake. Fionna tugged at the tie she was wearing and swallowed the spit that had formed in her mouth. The blonde leaned in so she was so close to the Godfather she could smell the wine on his person.

"Sir, may I get you anything? A beverage perhaps?" Fionna bit her lip and waited. The man slowly blinked and the blonde considered repeating herself. When she opened her mouth to ask once more, Hunson coughed into a closed fist and leaned farther back into his chair. "A glass of wine would be lovely."

Fionna nodded and straightened her posture. She waited for him too look at her but to her relief he continued to stare at the scene being played out on stage.

For a moment, the blonde let herself watch the show. Her eyes danced around the elaborate costumes and sets and realized this was the first time she'd really seen a play. She read plenty of works from the books Gumball had given her but she, Cake, and Lorn could never afford to go to one, let alone go to one and survive the trip.

Fionna's eyes wondered up to the hidden catwalk where the gun and Marshal would be. She imagined his slim figure walking across the metal and peering down at the show below, lithely setting up the gun and aiming it at his father. 'It'll be all over when the fat lady sings,' he had said. When would that be? Fionna couldn't even guess.

She snapped out of her thoughts and remembered her duty. Slipping out of the box and down the stairs and into the kitchen, Fionna poured a glass of wine and weaved her way back to the box. Once there, she extended the glass out to Hunson. The man took the glass, not bothering to look at her. He reached out his hand to her and Fionna blanked on what to do. Fionna flashed back at the mobsters she saw outside and followed their lead, hoping her action would not be her last.

Fionna took his hand and gently kissed it, feeling the age of his fingers with her own and the ring that sat on one of his digits. Hunson nodded satisfied and took his hand back, eyes on the show.

For a good hour in a half, Fionna worked to the bone as though she really did work at the theatre. For the past few days she and Marshall had been there, Fionna took the time to establish bonds with the other workers. Nothing close, but something so no one would grow suspicious.

Marshall found dirt on the manager of the place. A young gentleman who has had the pleasure of having the opera house be passed down in his family after the Mafia became political machines in the states. He rarely was at the theatre, and when he was he was always too busy to interact with his workers. No one would know whether he hired her or not. Luck was on Fionna and Marshall's side.

Fionna kept checking the clock on the wall and paced the lobby. She cleaned what she could and checked on Hunson twice more before the man kicked her out for bothering him. When was Marshall going to shoot?

The opera had reached its third act and Fionna decided to peek through a door at the performance. A rather heavy set woman was being dragged across the stage in chains. The blonde tried to wrap her memory around who that was and what could be going on, but her Italian failed her through the thick accent of the operatic voices and limited knowledge of the story.

She glanced up at the spot Marshall would be sure to be at and fidgeted anxiously. What was he waiting for?

Fionna left the door and headed for back stage. She bumped into a short Asian man with slicked black hair and dressed in the fanciest suit Fionna had ever seen.

"My apollogies, miss!"

"No, it should be me who's appologizing." Fionna gave him a reassuring smile. Did she escort him in? She couldn't remember. He didn't really look familiar. But she shrugged the thought away.

"Is there anything I can get for you to make your stay enjoyable, sir?"

The man raised his eyebrow and gazed at her with light suspicion. A minute ticked by and the man gently began to shake his head. "No. Thank you, though."

Fionna hid her relief and bowed to him, walking away. If she had taken the time to glance back over her shoulder, however, she would have noticed the man staring at her until she was hidden behind the doors leading backstage.

The blonde found herself behind the show at stage right. From her position, Fionna could see the heavy set woman wad left alone and she pranced around the stage merrily, singing to her heart's content.

The blonde glanced up at the catwalk with eager eyes. If someone carefully searched the area above with patient eyes, they would have seen the figure in black and the outline of a sniper rifle aimed into the audience. Marshall had found a slit in the curtain that gave him full access of his father and the young man breathed in the opportunity, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Fionna drew her attention back to the opera. Deciding the time for the Godfather's death was soon, she turned to leave but stopped in her tracks, listening to the sound outside of the music and singing.

There it was again. A creak. Softly, the metal above lightly groaned so slightly it'd be nearly impossible to hear. But Fionna did. She tried to make eye contact with Marshall but he prepared his gun with itching excitement. A creak again. A groan.

The heavy set woman bounced upstage and hit the longest note Fionna had ever had the pleasure of hearing. Marshall slid his finger onto the trigger and began to pull.

A loud groan pierced the opera house, causing the hairs on Fionna's arms and neck to rise. The catwalk collapsed and bullets from Marshall's gun ran wild into the ceiling.

The heavy set woman ran away from backstage screaming and threw her arms each and every way. The front of the audience had stood up and ran out screaming, ducking their heads as not to be shot by the invisible gun. Others followed suit but others stood and glared at the stage.

The catwalk had ripped the backdrop and the metal stuck out like a badly broken bone. Fionna fought through the running crew, snaking her way to the collapsed metal.

Fionna could see the shadows of he gangsters taking out their guns and forming a plan. Shouts were heard and she tore up her arm searching for her raven haired companion.

The blonde felt her heart drop when she found his body pinned under metal and fallen lights. His arm jetted out in a way Fionna knew shouldn't be and she shoved her hand into her mouth, preventing a gag.

The shadows moved and Fionna knew she couldn't waste time. She tapped Marshall on the cheek and he moaned. She tossed what she could of the metal away from his body and slid him out.

Marshall opened a groggy eye. Fionna felt her heart drop as his weight shuddered and fell limp in her arms.

There honestly was no time to waste. If they were caught, they'd be dead. Fionna shifted so she could toss Marshall's good arm around her shoulder and tried to lift him but tumbled. Marshall was a big guy. And Fionna was a very frail girl. Both did not match up well. At all. But she couldn't give up. She wouldn't. Not when they were that far into the game.

Fionna slapped Marshall across the face and it woke him up. The man blinked and Fionna tugged him onto his feet. The man obeyed and she inched him through the backstage and out the emergency door just as mobsters began to ascend onto the stage.

The cool air was refreshing and it pierced Fionna's senses. Her legs hurt from dragging Marshall and her arms begged for a break. But she couldn't risk one.

Marshall walked in a daze and Fionna felt worry take over her emotions. After a moment, his eyes slowly unglazed and the man blinked. He opened his mouth and a cry of pain rose from his chest.

Fionna slapped her hand over his mouth to calm him down, other arm holding up his wait. He tried to shove her away to grasp his arm but she didn't let him. Finally he made sense of his surroundings and panted, calming down but the blonde could see the pain in his face and eyes.

The blonde led him down an alley and to the hidden get away car. Marshall limped to the drives side and slumped against the car. Fionna panicked and rushed to his side.

Marshall's face had grown pale and his eyes returned to their glazed state. His good arm held his bad and his body lightly shook.

Fionna bit her finger, glancing at the path they took, at the car, and at Marshall. She knew she was going to regret what she was going to do, but there was no time to think logically.

The blonde dragged Marshall to the passenger side of the car, opened the door and led him in. Fionna and made sure he was comfortable before gulping and sliding into the driver's seat.

To be honest, Fionna had never driven a car in her life. Before she had met Marshall, she hadn't even BEEN in a car. But there she was. Sitting in the front seat with Marshall's life in the palm her hands. And her own, too. But she'd worry bout that later. If there was a later.

Fionna reached over and dug through Marshall's pocket and found the keys. The blonde plugged the key in and twisted it. The car roared to life and the girl and jumped in her seat.

Seat...right. Seatbelt. She forgot. Fionna slid hers over her shoulder and clicked it into the slot and did the same for Marshall who groaned in his sleep.

The blonde pictured how Marshall had driven when he first offered her a ride back to The Tree Fort. She placed her foot on the break and shifted the gear from park to reverse.

Looking over her shoulder, Fionna followed what she had seen in a movie once and lifted her foot off of the pedal. The car jerked back and Fionna slammed on the break, her heart beating.

Marshall's body slumped against the door. Fionna gave herself a minute before trying again, this time being more gentle. She pulled out of the alley and into the street, putting the car into drive and worked her way to the main roads.

Fionna's pulse slammed against her wrist and she was sure she was going to die. That at any minute she'd either have a heart attack or die from them crashing into a poll or a wall.

When she came to the busy streets, Fionna clung to the wheel and snuck a glance at Marshall. This was for him. When the road was clear enough for her to merge, she slammed on the pedal and the car sped forward. She raced into the traffic and the blonde had to stop herself from screaming.

It took her ten minutes to loosen her fingers from the wheel and peek into the mirrors like she had seen Marshall do. The city passed by in streaks of light and Fionna felt herself relax into the chair. She knew the way to Marshall's lush apartment, but she didn't know how she could drag him to the elevator and hold him until they reached the top of the skyscraper.

Fionna bit her lip and sighed. Marshall would be mad, but he couldn't be mad for long. The blonde clumsily changed lanes and followed an uncertain route until the comfort of the red brick building of the crummy apartment came into view.

The sight of the decaying stone and broken and boarded up windows brought a smile to Fionna's face. She pulled into a parking lot close by and hid the car as best as she could.

Turning the car off, Fionna took a moment to admire herself for getting them there by herself. She couldn't wait to let Marshall and Cake and Lorn know. They'd be so proud.

Marshall moaned and her cocky smile faded. Fionna got out of the car and opened the door for Marshall. She swung him around her shoulder and slid him out of the car.

Tapping her hand gently against his cheek, Marshall opened his eyes and shakily leaned against her, half him carrying his wait, half her carrying it for him.

The walk up the stairs was slow and painful. But it was okay. They were safe and away from the theatre. She wouldn't let anyone find them or hurt them. Not on her watch.

When they reached the apartment, Fionna led him to his bed and laid him down. Fionna locked the door and was careful about lighting the room.

A year back, Fionna had taken a health class. They'd learned everything from the typical stuff to CPR, setting bones, and what to do when someone has a seizure. Unfortunately for Fionna, that day was in the middle of her time of the month and she barely paid attention. She cursed at herself for refusing to fully participate now that she was stuck in a situation like this. She knew if she didn't do something fast, his arm could be permanently crippled.

Fionna inched to Marshall and tried to tug his good arm out of the sleeve. Marshall let out a scream and Fionna jerked away. She could run for a doctor or find her way back to the big apartment, but Fionna knew she could get mugged or killed. She was his only hope and she had to deal with that fact.

Digging through numerous drawers, Fionna found one filled with junk and nick knacks and a pair of scissors sat on top as though it had been expecting her. The blonde snatched it and cut away at Marshall's shirt, careful not to catch any skin.

Soon his shirt was cut in half and Fionna worked at the sleeve of his good arm. The blonde peeled the strips away and wiped at her brow, beginning to work on the sleeve of the bad arm.

It was difficult to cut the fabric off from around the broken arm without touching skin or worse. Fionna eyed Marshall now and then and once the fabric was completely off did she relax and pull the strips gently away.

Marshall laid on the bed, beads of sweat building on his forehead and naked torso. Fionna felt her face grow hot and she had to mentally slap herself to stay focused.

On Marshall's chest rested a silver necklace with a cross. Fionna knew it shouldn't have come as a surprise to her after seeing the painting of Mother Mary and Jesus in his room, but she took the holy symbol in her hand and turned it over, feeling the coolness of it on her fingers.

A groan escaped the man's mouth and Fionna dropped the cross. Broken arm. Right. Can't forget about that.

Fionna took what she could of the cut up cloth and began to work. She took his arm and remembered the vague directions her instructor had given the class.

The blonde took Marshall's arm into hers and braced herself. This was going to hurt him. A lot. But at least the pain won't last too long.

Fionna silently apologized to the man and began to push his arm back into place. Marshall sat up and yelled, slapping her across the face and grabbed at his arm, face scrunching up in pain and tears escaped his eyes.

The blonde brought her hand to her face, feeling the sting in her cheek. Fionna propped herself up on her elbow and crawled back to Marshall, straddling his waist to grip his bad arm and push his good one away.

Marshall hit her again. "Get off!" Fionna clung to his shoulders and necklace to keep from falling over. Another shove made Fionna nearly fumble back. His necklace broke off in her hand, causing the blonde to lose her balance.

Fionna gritted her teeth and shoved Marshall back onto the bed, pinning his good arm down with her knee and holding the broken one to her.

"I'm sorry, Marshall. But you can hate me later." She pushed his arm the rest of the way, setting it back into place. Marshall yelled in pain long and hard until he could no longer make a sound.

The raven haired man stared at the ceiling, tears staining his cheeks and sweat dripped down his temples and beaded on his chest.

Fionna shakily let go of his arm and slid off of him, panting herself. Her heart loudly pulsed in her chest and she realized that her nose was bleeding.

Taking a strand of cloth she held it to her nose with her shoulder and worked on splinting Marshall's arm. She couldn't find anything in the apartment that could be used as a splint, so she resulted in bandaging up his arm, lifting his head and tying the sling around his neck.

By then, Marshall's eyes had drooped and his breathing spaced out. Fionna found some pain killers in the cabinet above the sink, brought them to Marshall's mouth and helped him wash it down with a glass of water.

The man took the medication and water willingly, bringing his good hand to meet hers and drank the liquid as though he hadn't had a thing to drink in a long time.

When he was done, Marshall's head fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. The blonde sat on the ground and breathed with compulsive puffs. She kicked off her heels and brushed her hands through her hair.

Standing up, Fionna tugged the blankets onto Marshall and tucked him in like Cake had done for her when she was a kid and turned to find a place to rest for herself.

Marshall reached out his hand and felt along the bed, eyes closed. After a moment he let out an agitated noise and tears streamed down his face in frustration.

"Shh...it's okay, Marshall. I'm here. I'm here..." Fionna sat next to Marshall and touched his hand. He ignored it and kept fumbling around the bed. Fionna lifted the silver cross necklace in her hands and she understood.

Fionna slipped her hand out of Marshall's and replaced it with the necklace. His fingers struggled to hold onto the object. The cross kept falling out of his good hand and shaky fingers couldn't keep a good grip on the piece of metal.

The blonde sighed and laid down and placed the cross in her hand and pressed it into his skin. The man calmed down and snuggled his head into her side. She combed her free hand through his hair and hummed to him, making up the melody along as she went.

In no time, the man she was holding had fallen asleep and she relaxed, letting out a sigh. In the moonlight peeking through the black plastic bags and boarded up wood Marshall had used to cover the windows, Fionna could see the careful carvings on the cross and an Italian word etched into the center. She rolled it her hand until her eyes began to droop and she could barely hold up her arm.

Gazing down at Marshall whose head had fully used the blonde as a pillow, Fionna felt herself smile and drape her arm around his head protectively and pressed the cross to his warm skin where both she and him could feel it. He might not be able to hold onto his faith at the moment, but for then, she would hold onto it for him. And with that, Fionna fell into a deep sleep.


	16. What Could Go Wrong?

_**"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."**_

_**-Kevin Spacey, The Unusual Suspects**_

When Fionna woke up, snow was falling from the sky like miniature angles. The blonde rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up in her bed at Marshall's main apartment.

Sliding her legs out of the sheets, Fionna walked over to the window and eyed the white orbs flutter to the streets below, covering the city in a white blanket.

Fionna leaned her forehead against the glass and let out a sigh. A month had past since she had brought Marshall back all by herself. Her back lightly ached from the memory of his frame hunched over her for support as she dragged him to his bedroom and tucked him in. She had alerted the peppermint butler and the two arranged a doctor for Marshall.

Fionna closed her eyes, enjoying the cool glass against her skin. She had never met anyone so...difficult before. When the doctor wasn't there, Marshall bitched and moaned and sometimes refused to eat. During those times, Fionna and Pierre would have to feed him. If they were lucky, Marshall wouldn't fight. But other times Marshall would smash the trays onto the floor and pout the hours away without a single thing to snack on. During those times, Fionna would sneak into the kitchen late at night, make something and set it outside of Marshall's room. By morning, the food would be gone and the tray would be there waiting to be picked up and brought back to the kitchen.

Pushing herself away from the glass, Fionna supposed the month wasn't completely wasted. For the longest time, headlines screamed up at her from the papers of the incident at the opera. Pictures littered the front page with the crash and the gun, reminding her of their failure. Fights had broken out in bars, clubs, and even on the streets as people point fingers and make accusations here and there. In that light, Fionna was grateful no one suspected them. But a lingering feeling in the back of the blonde's mind left a feeling of uneasiness that made her heart thump and the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Fionna pulled on some hand me downs Pierre had given to her. Women's clothes, none the less. The outfits hung on her short and delicate frame, but the blonde couldn't ask for anything better.

Walking out of her bedroom, Fionna glanced down the hall to Marshall's bedroom. She could hear the man faintly yell out in pain as the doctor coached him through his new physical therapy routine. The bone had healed and with the help of the doctor, Marshall would be able to fully move his arm without being crippled. However, because the bone wasn't completely treated right away, Marshall's arm was now limited to movements. He couldn't even begin to think about heavy lifting with that arm ever again nor would he be able to fully stretch it out. The raven haired man had scoffed at the news and brushed the doctor's warning like it was nothing. But when he turned his eyes to Fionna, the blonde could see the fear and frustration behind his cocky mask.

Fionna turned and headed for Marshall's room. Upon coming to the black door, the blonde pressed her ear gently against the thick wood. On the other side, she could hear Marshall complaining to the doctor. A light hiss and loud swearing rose from behind the door a moment later. Fionna brought her hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter.

The blonde pushed herself away from the door and continued on her way. During the month, Fionna had made herself quite comfortable in the apartment. At first she was reluctant to ever leave her room. But after a few days of exploring every inch of her room, Fionna grew bored and her curiosity got the best of her. She memorized the halls and what rooms went where. She never dared go into a room she thought she shouldn't be in. She kept to the open rooms like the library and the kitchen. But pinpointed where the peppermint butler's room was, numerous bathrooms, guest rooms and even discovered a ballroom.

Fionna turned and entered through an open door. The apartment's kitchen was large and grand with marble countertops and a polished island sat in the center of the room where pots and pans hung directly over. The cooking area was far larger than the flat Fionna had lived in back home and that fact always blew her away every time she set foot into the room.

The aroma of pancakes filled the room, causing Fionna's mouth to water instantly. Pierre hummed to himself as he poured batter into pan over a stove.

Fionna tugged at her rabbit cap and walked over to the elderly gentleman. Peering over his arm at the food, Fionna watched as the batter bubbled from the heat. "Never realized how much Marshall really liked red velvet pancakes."

The butler slid a spatula under the mixture and paused for a moment and then proceeded to flip the now solidified batter. Peered down at her, Pierre smiled and placed the spatula into Fionna's hand and motioned for her to give it a try.

The blonde fumbled with the cooking utensil and looked at the man sheepishly. "I don't know how to cook."

The butler clicked his tongue and threw up his hands. "Nonsense! Everyone can cook. It just takes time." He guided Fionna closer to the pan, leading her hand to place the spatula under the batter and helped her flip it. "Besides, hadn't someone fed the master late at night when he refused to eat?" Fionna blushed and avoided eye contact. "Yeah, but that's just cold sandwiches. Never had the time to learn to properly cook otherwise..." Pierre let go of Fionna's hand and allowed her to try flipping the breakfast food by herself. The blonde succeeded and her eyes lit up in childlike excitement.

Beaming up at Pierre, the elderly man chuckled, took the pan and plopped the pancake onto a plate with already made pancakes. Pierre poured syrup onto the stack and scoped a bit of butter and placed it carefully on the top pancake's center.

Pierre placed the plate onto a tray and headed for the door. The man paused and looked over at his shoulder. "I'll be back to make you food as well, Miss Fionna. Forgive me for not feeding you as well as I should have. The master will not be pleased. It really is about time we put some meat on those bones of yours." The peppermint butler smiled and winked, turned and exited the kitchen, leaving Fionna alone in the large room.

The time she had spent there she had barely ate. It wasn't like how it was at home, though. Fionna could never be mad. The past month had been hectic and both she and the elderly gentleman had put their focus on the raven haired man. She ate when she could, snacking on fruit and sometimes making herself a sandwich or salad whenever she found the items to make it with. Slowly, Fionna was happy to see the once noticeable definition of her ribs sticking out was beginning to disappear. Her cheeks appeared fuller and even though it wasn't much, Fionna was thankful.

Fionna glanced at the clock that hung above the kitchen's entrance. She glanced around the room and her eyes fell to the pan and pushed it off of the oven to ensure any left over batter would not burn.

Satisfied, the blonde left and made her way down the hallway, past Marshall's room and her own and to a small door wedged into the wall.

Fionna counted the seconds in her head and smiled when a buzz rang from the compartment. Opening it to reveal a miniature elevator. The shaft was used to both deliver and send mail out, but since Marshall almost never had a bone to pick with anyone and preferred to keep conversations in person or over the phone, the only mail that met the small elevator were letters and ads sent to the raven haired man.

Opening the door, Fionna smiled as her eyes met the site of white envelopes stacked in a messy pile within the elevator. Over the course of the month, the blonde had realized the peppermint butler was far to busy with Marshall's arms and doctor's appointments to collect the mail. Pinpointing the time each day when the mail was usually delivered, the blonde would collect the mail herself and deliver it to either Pierre or Marshall depending on how important or unimportant the letters seemed.

Shuffling the envelopes, Fionna glanced over the addresses and names as she flipped from one to the next. Bills, ads, thank you notes...

Fionna froze and flipped back to an envelope. Letting the other letters fall, the blonde gazed over the note's wrapper. Marshall's name and address was stamped neatly on the front in pure gold. There was no return address, just the initials H.A sat in the upper left hand corner.

With shaky fingers, Fionna ran her hands over the gold imprint then hugged the letter to her chest and looked up and down the hallway. Her heart thumped in her chest and panic rose in her heart.

The blonde nearly tripped as she ran down the hallway and to Marshall's room. Coming to the door, Fionna stopped herself from running into the doctor. Stopping herself and plastering a smile on her face, Fionna gave him a polite nod. The man motioned for her to go ahead in, giving her a warm smile and took off down the hallway.

Fionna entered the room and hovered at the entrance. Marshall sat on the couch and happily ate the pancakes Pierre had brought him, awkwardly cutting at the breakfast food with his bad arm and struggling to lift the food to his eager mouth.

The blonde felt the panic leave her and she stepped closer to him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Here, let me help you."

"No, I got it."

The man frowned but handed over the fork and knife without a fight. Fionna placed the letter absentmindedly on the bedspread, for the moment forgetting about it as she cut into the pancake and lifting up a piece into Marshall's awaiting mouth.

Like a little kid, the man ate, a smile on his face. He glanced down at the bed and swallowed. "What's this?" Fionna blinked and gazed at the note. She felt her heart speed up again and placed the fork and knife on the plate.

"I-"

Marshall tore open the top with a finger and took a piece of paper out. He opened it and his eyes danced across the words on the page.

Fionna for his face to fall. To tell her to start packing her things so they could leave while they still could. It wasn't until she felt the throb of pain in her knuckles when she realized she was clutching the silverware tightly. Fionna inhaled and willed her fingers to let go.

The blonde glanced back up at Marshall and was shocked to see not a frown but a grin plastered on his face. Fionna jerked away in time for Marshall to knock off the tray of food by kicking his legs under the sheets. He shot up his hands and yelled happily.

Marshall grasped Fionna by the face, his grin widening. "You're the best, you know that?" He brought her face to his and kissed her before pulling away, letting out another happy cry. He jumped out of his bed and ran out of his room in just boxers and a muscle shirt. "Pierre! Get my good suit ready!"

Fionna sat on the bed completely stunned. She brought her fingers to her lips, brushed them through her bangs and looked around the room slowly. What just happened?

Panic was replaced with confusion and Fionna picked up the letter. She tried to make sense of the words on the page but she didn't see what made Marshall so happy.

Marshall waltzed back into the room, humming loudly and a smile was still plastered on his face. He walked over to his walk in closet. A moment later he came out with a handful of ties and stepped in front of the life size mirror on the door, holding each one up.

The raven haired man glanced at Fionna through the mirror. He chuckled at the confusion that painted her face and turned to look at her. "Read the invite?"

"Yeah...but I don't understand. Why would this make you happy? A meeting with your father sounds like the last thing we'd want. Especially..." She brought the note back up and scanned it. "The part where he says he's going to 'unravel his surprise.' Doesn't that sound suspicious to you at all?"

Marshall snorted and turned back to the mirror. "Hardly. My dad's full of surprises. If it was anything against us he would have his army bursting in already."

Fionna knew he was joking but she still uneasily glanced around the room. Marshall held up the last tie to his neck and looked it over. "Besides, you're not looking at the opportunity we have."

"Opportunity?"

Marshall walked back into the closet and came out with pants, hopping as he pulled them on. "You see it as a suspicious invite. I see it as an opportunity to kill my father."

Fionna frowned, feeling her the bridge of her nose scrunch up. "How?"

"There are only a handful of people that get to see the inside of my father's home: his closest friends and me. And on rare occasions, like this, he'll throw a dinner party if there's something he considers both important and incredible to share with us."

Fionna gave him a long look. Marshall sighed and buttoned up his pants. "He has a special glass that was my mom's favorite. He only ever drinks from it when special occasions such as these occur."

"Are you suggesting we slip something into his drink?"

"NOW you're thinking like a public enemy!" Marshall grinned.

"But if we tried to poison him, wouldn't he know? I'm guessing his place isn't exactly unguarded."

"And you're right. My dad has men all over the place."

"Then how-?"

"Before the food and drinks come out, they are placed on a long table in a hall leading to the bathroom. From the dining room, he wouldn't be able to see who could have done it unless he paid attention to who used the bathroom. Only disadvantage is if no one else gets up before us to use it or if a server walks in on us slipping something into the drink." He scratched at the stubble on his face, thinking. "I'd have to think things through a bit, but it honestly shouldn't be too difficult. The party lasts for hours and if we fail we can always try again throughout the night with food if we pay close enough attention to what he orders. And if that doesn't work, we can always back track and find a better time to strike." The man mulled his words over in his head and nodded, satisfied.

Fionna frowned and played with the letter in her fingers. Marshall glanced at the girl and walked over to her, bending down in front of her. He placed one hand on her wrist and the other found its way under her chin, bringing her head up to meet his gaze.

For a moment, the blonde thought the man was going to kiss her. And a blush crept onto her face when she realized she didn't just welcome it, but she wanted it.

Marshall brushed a finger across her cheek, examined her face and smiled. "We got this, Fi. We can do it this time. You and me."

"You and me." She echoed back with half the enthusiasm.

Marshall poked her nose and stood up. He took what he could of the tray and plate off of the ground. Marshall frowned at the syrup and butter but shrugged it off as he left the room.

Hovering at the door, the raven haired man turned and smirked. "You look good in my mother's clothes, by the way."

Fionna felt her face flush and she hugged herself, feeling the cloth against her skin. Marshall laughed at her reaction. "Calm down, Fi. We got this. What could go wrong?"

Marshall left Fionna alone in the room. The blonde sat on the bed and stared at the smudged syrup and butter on the purple carpet. She had faith in Marshall. But she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling she had in her gut. And it didn't help at all that Marshall's words kept echoing on repeat in her head. 'What could go wrong?'


	17. Welcome to the Lion's Den

_**"If any of you have a message to give the devil, give it to me quick - I'm about to meet him!"**_

_**-Lavinia Fisher-**_

Fionna tugged at the shawl that kept her torso and arms warm. The narrow inside of the limo she was in along with the dim lighting suffocated the blonde and she desperately prayed that the car ride would end soon so she could stretch her legs and not think about how the night would unfold.

Marshall sat across from her with a smirk on his face. His guitar case rested against his leg and Fionna kept glancing at it with nerves knotting in her stomach. The man's eyes had been glued to her the entire car ride and Fionna did what she could to pretend to not notice.

"You look beautiful." That must have been the twentieth time he had given her that compliment that night. If they weren't on their way to kill the Godfather, she'd take his compliment to heart.

Fionna rubbed at the white silk of her dress. Marshall really knew how to choose the outfits. The style reminded her of a Roman tunic she had seen in her former history book. A single shoulder strap draped over her shoulder and the bodice of her dress was baggy around her upper torso. The rest flowed down in layers that reminded Fionna of a waterfall she had seen in one of her photography magazines.

The dress was beautiful, don't get her wrong. But it just wasn't...Fionna. The girl thought back to the baggy clothes back at the apartment and longed to be wearing them. Fionna glanced up at Marshall and held his eye contact. His smirk widened and a blush penetrated her cheeks. She didn't understand why Marshall would be calling her 'beautiful.' How could she be beautiful when she hardly felt that herself?

As though he sensed Fionna's discomfort, Marshall shifted to sit beside the blonde and swung an arm around her shoulders, giving her arm a firm rub. "You're going to be okay, Fi. I promise."

Fionna could only nod and found the will and courage to snuggle her head into the man's chest. She could feel Marshall tense with surprise and relax after a pause and ran his fingers through her hair.

The limo pulled to a stop and Fionna felt her heart slam into her chest. The door opened and Marshall took Fionna's hand in his and gave it a light squeeze.

"Ready?"

No. But did she really have a choice? Marshall slipped out of the limo and reached his hand in, waiting for her to take it. Fionna hesitated, then took his awaiting hand. Marshall guided her out of the limo, leaned back in and took the guitar case.

The snow had ceased and a path had been scraped, leading to a tall skyscraper. Fionna felt as though the building looked...familiar. Where had she seen it before?

A cold wind blew at Fionna and she shivered, clutching at her arms. Marshall glanced at her, tugged off his coat jacket and swung it around her shoulders. The blonde gladly tugged the coat closer to her body, feeling the previous warmth from Marshall within.

It amazed Fionna how good Marshall could look both clean cut and unshaven. The man had chosen black dress pants, shoes, button up shirt and red tie for the night. Not as classy as he could be, but it suited him in an odd way.

Marshall looked down at his blonde companion and offered her his arm. Fionna smiled and followed the drill he had taught her back at the apartment. She slipped her arm in his and gave it a light squeeze.

Fionna was led to the doors and the blonde scrunched up her nose, trying to figure out what might have been out of place. When Marshall held open the doors for her did she notice the absence of any kind of guards. She looked here and there, searching for some kind of security but came up with none. Was he really feared so much that no one would dare enter his home? She didn't blame anyone. Even if she could get away with walking in with a bomb strapped to her, she'd be too afraid to even cross the street let alone walk in.

The marble ground had a single strip of red carpet that led to the center of two halls. On the wall overlooking the main hall was a grand carving of the building they were in. A part had been removed and was replaced with Rossi Tower over the neatly drawn atlas the carving sat on.

Marshall guided Fionna down the hall and glanced from the left wall to the right that contained display cases that had been gutted of whatever they used to contain and replaced with the history of Hunson's rise to power.

"Grand, isn't it?"

"Big..."

Marshall turned and led Fionna up a flight of stairs to awaiting elevators. An elevator hopper in bright red stood patiently in a lift and smiled at them, shifting closer to the side so they could have more room.

Fionna nodded at the man and smiled. "Thank you." The elevator hopper looked flustered but calmed down and beamed. He turning back to the buttons and pressed the second to last top floor.

The lift jerked and the blonde clung to Marshall as the elevator shot up the numerous floors in a speed Fionna couldn't comprehend. In only a minute or two, the three had gone up one hundred and one floors.

Fionna had dug her fingers into Marshall's arm and the man laughed, brushing a stray lock from her face. "What a rush! C'mon, you'll be okay."

The doors opened and the blonde took a shaky step out of the lift. The doors banged shut behind them and Fionna could hear a 'woosh' as the elevator shot down the shaft.

Faint music leaked from behind double doors. Fionna swallowed and felt her legs. Marshall glanced down at his companion and extended his hand to her. Fionna didn't need to look. Her own bolted out and took his instantly, giving it a small squeeze.

Marshall allowed Fionna to take a breath and the two made their way to the doors. The raven haired man gazed down at Fionna with a cocky smile and mouthed 'are you ready?'

No. No, no, no. The opera was one thing. They were at a distance and had a small chance at being caught. Now they were in HIS territory. Playing by HIS rules. This wasn't something they could mess up on and go 'oops! Better luck next time.' Sweat trickled down Fionna's temple at the possibility that they could be dead within the next few hours. She brought her free hand up to her head and wished Marshall had let her worn her bunny hat. Fionna knew it was too childish to wear to an event like that, but it gave her the strength she needed.

Classical music faintly filtered through the doors and Marshall pushed them open and Fionna blinked, taking in the scene before her.

The room was large with a long table in the center, a flat screen T.V on one wall and a small band in a corner strummed Vivaldi's piece the Four Seasons.

When Marshall said that Hunson would only have a handful of friends over, Fionna had expected maybe five or six people. But the blonde was surprised to count a number of fourteen guests, including mobsters with their girls and bodyguards. A good handful were sitting at the table and gambled while two couples danced to the music.

The doors shut behind them and Fionna jumped. A chuckle came from the far side of the table and the blonde's eyes widened.

Hunson Rossi placed his cards face down, took out a cigar from his coat pocket and stuck it in his mouth. A servant was at his side in a second, lighting the cancer stick. The man sucked on the cigar and blew out smoke from his nose, leaning back into his chair. A black walking cane rested against the table beside him. The handle was a silver Hawk's head that glimmered under the bright lights.

"Hey, Pop. Long time no see."

The men and women that sat at the table looked up and smiled at the two before going back to their game. Fionna held her breath as she glanced from one guest to the next. The men were handsome in their suits and Fionna felt less dressed compared to the women sitting down.

"Are you going to introduce me to your guest or am I going to have to scare the information out of her?" Hunson's eyes scanned Fionna from head to toe in slow fixation. Too slow for Fionna's comfort.

Now it was Marshall's turn to chuckle. He took Fionna's hand and gently escorted the blonde closer to the Godfather. The closer she got, the more and more Hunson resembled the cold man in the photographs Marshall had shown her.

"THIS is Fionna, Dad."

Hunson slowly stood from his chair and used his cane for support. His age could be heard in the cracking of his back and Fionna wanted to reach out and tell him to sit back down. And she would have. That is, if he had been any other man.

Up close, Fionna could now see the grey in Hunson's hair, the faint wrinkles that had formed on his face and the numerous small scars that he had recieved over the years from handling the Mafia.

The man towered over Fionna and she wished she had worn higher heels just so she didn't have to feel so small. Hunson gave an identical smirk to what she had seen on Marshall, took her hand in his gloved one and lightly kissed her knuckles.

It took everything in Fionna not to jerk her hand away and glare. She forced smile on her lips as Marshall's father glanced up at her with a smile and stood erect.

"Very lovely choice, Marshall. I like her better than the last girl you brought in."

Marshall scowled. "Please don't bring up Ashley, dad. I don't like to be reminded of THAT." He crossed his arms and gave his father a stern look.

Hunson chuckled and inhaled his cigar, breathing out smoke and took a seat. He beckoned the two to sit in chairs closest to him.

Marshall placed his guitar case beside the table andpulled out the chair for Fionna. The blonde blushed and moved in front of the chair, sitting awkwardly as the raven haired man pushed the chair underneath her. Marshall sat beside her and placed his hand in hers. Fionna gave it a light squeeze and to her surprise he gave her one back.

Hunson beamed. "My heir! Such a gentlemen. His mother would be so proud." The couple dancing looked over at him and the they moved to take a seat. Hunson glanced at them and waved his hand. "No, no. Go ahead and dance. Actually, I think I may join you."

The Godfather slowly rose from his chair. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, ditching his cane at the table for the moment.

Hunson gazed down at Fionna and smiled and extended his hand to her. "Marshall...take my place . I would like to get to know your sweetheart a bit better. If you don't mind, that is."

Marshall looked as though he wanted to protest. Hunson slid him his cards and pulled Fionna from her chair. The blonde stumbled but the Godfather steadied her and led her to the makeshift dance area.

Hunson led Fionna to a spot that they could dance in. He nodded at the band and they cut Four Seasons and began to play something Fionna was unfamiliar with.

"L'italiana in Algeri."

"Excuse me?"

Hunson chuckled and brought her hand into his and the other on his shoulder. He moved his hand to her lower back and Fionna felt her nerves spike.

"The Italian Woman in Algiers. By Gioachino Rossini. I'm surprised you've never heard of it."

Fionna swallowed. "Don't have much time for music."

Hunson spun her around and fionna nearly tripped. The blonde held onto the Godfather's arm for balance and the man smiled down at her. The teen blushed from both disgust and shyness and tried to think of something witty to say but ended up blurting out: "I don't really know how to dance."

The Godfather threw back his head and laughed. "You're cute. I like you. Marshall has chosen well this time around. Not as sophisticated as I would have liked, but you have the intelligence and motivation to learn. I'll be sure to have Marshall sign you up for some dance classes..."

Fionna could only nod and look down at her feet as Hunson twirled her around in a sloppy waltz. The blonde glanced at the table and was horrified to see the guests watching with smiles and pointing as they whispered to their partners.

A single sweat droplet slid down Fionna's temple and her heart beated loudly in her ears. She wished for the guests to stop looking at her. Pointing at her. Smiling at her. Fionna was dancing with the devil. She never wanted to be reminded of this. Oh, God, what would Cake say?

Right as Fionna thought she was going to have faint from the stress, Hunson stopped and let the blonde's hands collapse back to her sides. The Godfather placed his hand on his lower back and stretched.

"What's wrong, H? Don't have it in ya anymore?" A man sat his cards down on the table and breathed out smoke, a cigar hung from his sneer.

"Now, now, Cornelius. Is that really any way to treat your host?" Hunson cracked his back and a servant delivered his cane. Leaning on the stick, he stood tall and smiled at the man.

Cornelius's grin only widened and revealed yellowed teeth beneath his lips. Fionna flinched and tried her best not to look away with disgust. Two large men stood behind him with sunglasses and with very familiar looking attire.

Fionna's eyes flickered to the dark shades that hid the bodyguards' eyes and quickly looked away. The blonde could feel one of the men's his orbs on her as though he were scanning her for her secrets.

Marshall glanced up from his cards, wrinkled his nose and looked Fionna over.

"You okay, Fi?"

"W-what?"

"You okay? You don't look so good. Do you need to go to the bathroom?" He stood up and was at her side in a second. Marshall placed his hand on her forehead and Fionna closed her eyes, enjoying the cool feeling of his skin.

"Y-yeah, I think I will take you up on that offer. Is that okay?" She peeked an eye open. Marshall gave her an approving and knowing smile, letting his hand drop. Fionna felt disappointment wash over her, but she reminded herself they were on a mission. She couldn't mess this up.

The blonde looked to the Godfather and he nodded. "Go through that door over there. Make a left and it'll be on the far right of the hall." Hunson gave her a warm smile. "Don't you dare leave my dinner sick, you here me?"

Fionna swallowed. She knew it was meant to be a warm hearted joke but his words drew fear in her heart. The blonde forced a smile, exited through the door and made a left.

Down the hallway, some tables were pushed up against the walls. Platters of food and trays with wine and other beverages waited to be brought out.

Fionna walked slowly along the tables and eyed the beautifully cooked food that made her mouth water. Coming to the drinks, the blonde searched the cups. All were plain wine glasses and Fionna began to panic.

The sound of someone walking down the hallway startled Fionna and she sped up her pace and found a door marked 'women.' The blonde dived in and let the door shut behind her, feeling her heart race within her chest.

Fionna took a shaky step towards the sink and leaned against the counter. The teen looked at the mirror in front of her. Her blonde hair had been neatly combed back into a loose bun by Pierre and she had attempted her own make up. Most of the lipstick she had applied earlier she had chewed off in the limo ride over. The rest of her make up was a bit smudged in places from Fionna touching her face repeatedly throughout the night.

The blonde tried to find the girl she had seen just a few months ago in the mirror at Cake's apartment. She searched her reflection desperately but couldn't find the person she thought she was. That Fionna didn't exist anymore. That Fionna wouldn't be wearing that make up or dress. That Fionna would never have even thought about pretending to be the girlfriend of the son of the Godfather. And most importantly, she would never have even thought about committing murder.

The blonde's eyes trailed down to a fold in her dress. To the naked eye, it was a design implanted into the piece of clothing. But to her knowing mind, she could see the faint outline of the eye dropper Marshall had given her. The key to ending the Godfather's life.

Pushing herself away from the counter, Fionna took a shaky breath. It was either then or never. She poked her head outside of the bathroom and glanced down the hallway. Chatter could be heard from the conference room.

Fionna slipped into the hallway and wandered to the drink section. She walked up and down the table, searching desperately. The panic came back and the girl turned to leave, deciding that she and Marshall would just have to try again some other time.

A hint of red caught Fionna's eye and she slowly turned toward the object. A glass, hidden on its own tray beside a bowl of caesar salad stood a tall wine glass with red flowers printed along the side with vines wrapping around the rest of the cup.

The glass had been nicked in places from age but the cup was more glamorous than anything Fionna had ever imagined. The blonde reached into the pouch and touched the eye dropper with her fingers. She pulled it out robotically and screwed it open, bringing the dropper up where she could see it.

The liquid was impossibly clear. A few drops is all she needed. If a servant were to see it, they'd only think of it as water. And even if they wiped it away, the poison that still lingered on the glass would still be enough to kill a man.

Fionna reached her hand over and shakily dropped some of the poison into the glass. When she was done, the blonde's hands quaked as they tried to put the dropper back into the bottle.

"Why, hello, there. Fancy meeting you, here."

The blonde dropped the dropper. It bounced off of the carpet and rolled under the table. Fionna spun around, heart racing in her chest.

Cornelius's henchman stood beside Fionna, staring down at her from behind his shades. The blonde waited for him to accuse her of what she had done, but instead, the man smiled and stood straight.

"Sorry if I scared you." He looked over the food and drinks. "Looks great."

"Y-yeah."

"Hunson's food is always superb." He muttered as he brought his attention back to the blonde. "Well, you're here. And I'm here. Would you mind if I escort you back?"

He was too close for comfort. Fionna could feel his hot breath on her face and smelt the intoxicating odor beer and cigarettes.

"Sure."

The words slipped out of Fionna's mouth before she could think. The man grinned and led her arm into his and strolled down the hall. Fionna did her best to keep up, feeling her heart speed up.

"Do you like chocolate at all?"

"W-what?"

"Chocolate. The food?"

"Oh...yeah. I suppose. Why?"

The man stopped and took a wrapped piece of brownie out from his pocket. Peeling away the napkin, Fionna felt her mouth water at the sight. It was exactly how it looked in her pictures and magazine clippings.

"Want it?"

Fionna snapped her head back. "Is it okay?"

"Sure! I slipped it off of the table back there. One missing piece won't be a big deal. Just our little secret, eh?" He gently nudged her arm with his and winked.

Fionna awkwardly smiled and took the brownie from him, letting down her guard. "Well...thank you! You didn't have to do this!"

The man smiled and let his glasses fall to the tip of his nose, exposing dark brown eyes. "Don't mention it."

Fionna looked away shyly and took a bite. The chocolate melted on her tongue right away and the blonde had to stop herself from closing her eyes in pleasure and stuff the rest of the piece into her mouth.

"Why are you with a guy like Marshall Lee?"

Fionna nearly choked on the bite she was eating. She swallowed and felt panic rise in her veins. She thought about the truth but it quickly faded in her mind.

"Well, Marshall is a very handsome man. He was kind to me when we first met and I guess...I guess I just wanted to see him again." The blonde was surprised by the truth in her words. Looking up, she realized the body guard was looking at her and she did her best to hide the surprise on her face.

"Well, Marshall is one lucky guy."

Was that resentment in his voice? Fionna couldn't tell. The blonde wrinkled her nose and shoved the last of the brownie into her mouth as they approached the conference room's entrance.

Fionna could hear laughter as they turned into the room. Marshall looked over at her and grinned. He winked and Fionna felt her cheeks heat up and after a moment she smiled back.

Hunson looked up from his cards and grinned. "Ah. Right on time." He set his cards down and looked over the people he called friends. "Comrades, you must all be wondering why I've brought you here this fine November evening."

Mutters broke out along the table and Fionna slipped away from Cornelius's body guard. The man took his place behind his boss.

Fionna took her seat beside Marshall and felt a light pulse of a headache form in her head. The raven haired man slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. The blonde felt her heart do a flip in her chest and she had to calm herself down. He knew she was able to slip the poison. He was just trying to congratulate her. That was it. Nothing more.

The blonde swallowed her disappointment and squeezed his hand back, feeling her smaller fingers quiver. Did he notice? Marshall let go and set his hands on top of the table. "So, you gonna tell us what the big deal is, Pop? Or are we going to have to beat it out of ya?"

The Godfather threw his head back and laughed. "That's my heir for you. Still as impatient as ever." Hunson clapped his hands and servers rushed in with drinks. The cup Fionna had chosen to slip the poison into was placed before Marshall's father. Fionna had to stop herself from grinning triumphantly or look at Marshall for praise. A glass of wine was placed in front of each Mafia member.

Hunson slipped his hand around his glass and Fionna could feel the anticipation rising from Marshall. "The reason I have brought you few today is because I have formed something to define our society."

'Disgusting?' Fionna muttered in her head. She leaned forward anyway, the pulse in her head growing stronger. A servant rushed into the room carrying a tray with a silk sheet over it. They placed it in front of the Godfather and rushed away.

Fionna watched as his eyes grew eerily colder. She didn't think that could be possible. They flicked over the faces at the table and a smile tugged at his thin lips. "Friends, comrades, family and dear ones, I have gathered you here today to celebrate the anniversary of the fall of the Statue of Liberty." More murmurs. Fionna felt herself clench up her dress in her fists, feeling her fingers grow numb.

"To celebrate our victory, it has come to my attention that we should have something to define our society. The power we have created. The weakness we have dispatched from the West, and soon, the East."

Fionna felt like she was going to throw up. The throb in her head had grown to an ache and it was hard to look at the lights.

"Loved ones, the day has come where we mark the new world with a reminder of who owns the earth's lands. Who watches over every aspect. Who guides the economy, the people and the politics. Behold, the reminder of the past and the future!"

Hunson ripped off the sheet. The others clapped. Some even stood and beamed. Fionna couldn't understand. Why were they so excited? Fionna felt her head whirl and tasted bile in her mouth. The smell of the wine didn't help either. And sipping it only made her feel sicker.

Fionna glanced over at Marshall for an answer. He clapped away and the blonde closed her eyes briefly. She opened them and looked at the object.

"I've always been one to follow the term 'out with the old and in with the new.' After my rise as the Godfather, it's all I've followed. Out with the old way of life and in with the new. The better." Hunson smiled. "The remains of the Statue of Liberty will be scraped out and replaced with this."

Fionna heard herself gasp and she placed a hand on the table to stable herself. The object was a model of statue. A statue of Hunson sitting in an oversized chair staring straight ahead with his cold, cold eyes. She imagined the statue where Lady Liberty should be. Imagined his lifeless form starring out into the see. Staring off at Eurasia and Africa and the countries that would soon fall from grace thanks to him.

Hunson and the others looked over at the blonde and the Godfather frowned. "Is something wrong?" Marshall looked down at Fionna, his frown mocking his father's. "You okay, Fi? You don't look so good." He reached out and placed his hand on her forehead. His skin felt cool and Fionna felt her eyes flicker.

"Yeah...just a headache is all."

The Godfather scratched at his chin. The look in his eyes had faded and she could tell that she had ruined the moment. Hunson snapped his fingers and a servant was there and took the model away.

Marshall leaned in and Fionna could feel his breath on her ear. "You okay, Fi? We can leave if you want." A whisper, but it was loud enough for those nearby to hear. To keep up the act. Fionna swallowed her pain and shook her head. Even the slightest movement made her mind pulse and stomach churn. "No. You've been waiting for this." 'We both have,' she thought.

Fionna turned her head to where their noses were almost touching. She could smell the wine on his breath and she wanted to beg him to take her home. But they've been waiting too long for this moment to just bail. They had to ensure the Godfather's death. Ensure Marshall's reign.

Marshall nodded and sat up straight. Fionna leaned her head against his arm and waited for him to shake her off. To her surprise, Marshall brought his hand up and played with her hair. The man across from her sneered.

"Looks like the girl stole the spotlight off of you, Hunson." His eyes swirled with light brown and shades of what looked like red. It was probably from the light but it made the blonde's blood run cold. "Marshall, what'd you slip her? You gonna share her at all?" He tilted his head back and cackled.

Marshall frowned. "Knock it off, Gibson." Fionna glanced at Hunson. Had he sipped his drink, yet?

Gibson grinned and leaned in. "She's a real beauty. How much for a girl like her?"

"I said to knock it off."

"Maybe if I can take her off your hands for a night..."

"I said knock it-"

Bang.

Gibson was on the ground. Possibly dead. Hunson stood there, gun in hand. Everyone at the table froze and stared at the now empty seat the crude man had been in.

Slowly, the Godfather slipped the gun back into his interior coat pocket and sat down. Two body guards burst in and examined the scene. Their eyes rested on Hunson and he pointed to where Gibson's body was. "Take the filthy piece of trash away. Send a warning to the Gambino family. They are really trying my patience."

The body guards picked up Gibson's bloodied body. His head hung loosely and the liquid horror wafted over to Fionna and she could smell the stench of death.

Marshall wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. Fionna buried her head into her partner's shoulder. Everything was a painful scream in her head.

Hunson glanced up at his 'friends' who had taken a liking to their drinks and staring at anything but one another. "The mood has been ruined. My happy celebration has been tainted by disgusting words from a filthy man. Friends, let us move on and remember why we are here."

A few people glanced up but brought their attention back down to the table. Hunson's jaw clenched. Marshall stirred beside Fionn. "I brought my guitar, Pop."

The Godfather's frown was replaced with a smile. "Bring it out, Marshall. I think that's a splendid idea."

Fionna leaned her head away and she instantly regretted it. Marshall pulled his guitar case up and slid his chair away from the table to where everyone could see him and cracked open the case. The blonde felt panic rise within her. Was he planning on shooting them all? Was he really that impatient to get things done?

Marshall opened the case to reveal his black Dean EAB Acoustic Bass. Fionna relaxed as the raven haired man took the instrument out and tuned it, strumming a few strings. When he was done, he glanced up at Fionna and smiled. "Fi, come here."

Fionna was on her feet and she swayed. The guard that had walked her from the bathroom furrowed his brow in concern. "Maybe I should take her to the bathroom?"

Marshall glared at the bodyguard and took Fionna's hand and pulled her a tad too roughly into his lap. He adjusted her so that her head was tucked under his and let her lean against his frame. Marshall positioned the bass on the other side of her so he could comfortable play without the blonde getting in the way.

Hunson smiled and leaned in his chair. Servants came in with salads, caviar and soup, placing them in front of each guest who had now turned their attention to the Godfather's son and his 'girl.'

Marshall strummed a few strings and Fionna closed her eyes. The song was slow and seemed to capture everyone's attention. His fingers gently danced from string to string and created a melody so soft and sweet it brought tears to the blonde's eyes.

The raven haired man's voice breathed through his lips as soft and gentle as the music itself. Fionna was shocked by how jazzy his voice was and how clear and strong it came out. She could listen to it forever knowing she would never get tired of it.

Marshall's words danced up and down Fionna's body and around the room in fluent Italian. A repeated phrase sent chills up and down her spine as the raven haired man presseds his lips into her ear: 'Fino sempre, fino sepmre.'

The song was over before Fionna could fully enjoy it. Sighs escaped some of the guests and Hunson slowly clapped, a smirk on his lips.

"That's my heir. Always been musically talented. Just like his mother."

Marshall sat up and grinned, holding Fionna with one arm and leaned down to put the bass away. The blonde heard the case click shut and felt herself being led up onto her feet. Fionna could feel her knees wobble beneath her and she wondered if she could even take a step without falling.

Another man sitting beside Hunson began to hack loudly. He struggled to breathe as the lettuce from the salad he was eating wedged itself against his throat. He hacked and struggled to breathe, blindingly searched for his cup with his fingers.

Fionna watched in horror as the man missed his cup. His long fingers seemed to wrap around Hunson's glass in slow motion and before the Godfather could protest, the cup was in the man's mouth. He chugged down the liquid eagerly, not wasting a single drop.

In a heartbeat, the man collapsed over the table and the cup spun out of his hand. Hunson swiftly grabbed the glass before it could drop to the ground below and narrowed his eyes.

Hunson brought the cup to his nose and smelt the glass gingerly, nose scrunching up. Something churned in his grey eyes that made Fionna and the other guests shift in fear. He glanced from each guest to the next with suspicion.

"Poison."

Fionna felt her body fall limp and Marshall nearly let her drop. He scooped her up with one arm and propped her up so she could lean against him. "Fionna?"

The blonde wanted to talk but her lips wouldn't part. She tried to focus her eyes but they wouldn't allow her to. Marshall frowned and began to drag her to the exit with his guitar.

"Pop, I need to get Fionna home. I'll call you later about this." Marshall nodded at the glass as the blonde in his arms rolled her head and let out a light groan. The raven haired man's head snapped to look at her in surprise and led her through the doors.

Fionna turned her head just in time to have her eyes connect with the Godfather's. A col look gleamed over his face as two servants worked at dragging the poisoned guest out. Fionna tried to depict what it could mean but her head refused to operate correctly.

The blonde didn't remember entering the elevator or how she made it to the lobby of the building. Her legs felt like jell-o and everything hurt. She hadn't felt that bad since the time Cake had served expired milk to her a few years back.

"Shit." Marshall hissed and sat Fionna down in an arm chair. She slumped in it immediately and let out a groan. "I'm so sorry, Fi. I forgot to call Pierre." He felt around his dress coat and swore once more. "I'm sorry, Fionna. I'll be right back. I left my cell at home. Just...just hang in there, okay?"

Fionna felt Marshall's fingers hesitate on her brow. The touch was gone as quickly as it had occurred and the blonde listened to the pitter patter as the raven haired man walked down the hallway and made a left to where Fionna assumed contained pay phones.

Seconds felt like hours as they slowly ticked by. Footsteps clacked down the tile towards her and she almost sighed in relief. "Marshall?" Her voice sounded far away. Fionna grimaced as her own words seemed to echo in the room and ring in her ears.

"Not quite."

Fionna's eyes shot open. She tried to focus but everything she looked at vibrated in two. She gazed up at the body guard that had escorted her from the bathroom. His eyes bore into her and panic rose in her throat.

Upon seeing the shock in Fionna's eyes, the man leaned down so that they were eye to eye. "Well, well, well...what do we have here? A caged rabbit? All by herself? Well, a gentleman like me should take care of this problem now, shouldn't I? Feeling a little...dizzy?"

"You drugged me." The words formed on her lips before she could process her thoughts. Her voice cracked and one eye drooped as she saw three floating sneers on the man's face.

"Well, yes, if you want to put it that way. I'm sorry, but when I see something that I like I don't let a prize get away. At least, not so easily."

The man took Fionna's arm and draped it over his shoulders. She felt a scream build up within her but when the blonde opened her mouth only air escaped from her lungs.

Fionna felt herself be hoisted over the bodyguard's shoulder and her body go instantly limp. The intoxicating smell of a new suit jacket stung her nose and her vision was slowly blurring to nothing.

Tears built up in her eyes and she wanted to kick and push herself away. She hated feeling so...useless. An image of Marshall flashed in her head and she wondered with sheer terror where he was. What was taking him so long? Would she ever see him again?

Cold night air met her skin and lowered the fire that had been built up in her head. She could hear the man holding her feel for his keys in his pocket and swear, his body tensing up.

In a flash, Fionna watched as someone kicked the man in the head. The bodyguard let out a yell and Fionna's body fell to the cold concrete like a heavy sac of flour. She couldn't groan or cry out. The world spun and she felt as though death was at her doorstop, just waiting for the moment when she would fall asleep.

Fionna listened to the numerous sounds of what she assumed was someone being hit. She couldn't tell who was winning, but she prayed it wasn't her tormenter.

A moment later Marshall fell beside her, back slamming into the cement. The bodyguard shoved his foot into Marshall's chest and sneered. "Wonder what Daddy would have to say about this?"

"I'll let you know." Marshall pulled out a semi automatic hand gun from the inside of his coat pocket and fired. The shot rang in Fionna's ears and she felt droplets of something fall onto her face and arms. Was it raining?

Fionna felt her eyes flutter and heard Marshall hiss. He helped her up as a limo pulled to the curb. The blonde felt herself be hoisted into the car followed by her companion. The door slammed shut and the car pulled away too quickly for Fionna's taste. Her mind seemed to have been left back at the building and her body felt as though it were going faster than the speed of light.

The blonde wanted to reach out and hold onto something. Anything to remind her that she was still alive. Fionna felt her seat with shaky fingers, each passing moment inching by slowly. In a heartbeat, Fionna felt Marshall slip his hand into hers and pulled her to him. She wanted to cling to him and cry out the toxins in her body from the drugs. To have him tell her that she would be fine and magically make her feel better. But she knew that was just wishful thinking.

When the car stopped, Fionna felt her body fall into a limbo like state. She didn't remember when Marshall had carried her out of the car. But when she opened her reopened her eyes, she was in the apartment.

Fionna could hear Pierre follow close behind in Marshall's steps. "Sir, allow me to-"

"No, I've got this. You take the night off, Pierre. You deserve it."

The second pair of footsteps drew back and Fionna struggled to hear the last of the peppermint butler's whispered words. "As you wish, sir."

Fionna felt Marshall move through the halls and into a room. She could feel the raven haired man hesitate as he scanned the area, the gears in his head turning. Fionna felt herself groan from the intense heat building up in her body and pressed her forehead into his arm.

Marshall opened another door and walked in. He kneeled and let Fionna lean against him. A squeaking noise filled the room followed by running water.

Marshall found the zipper on the back of Fionna's dress and undid it. Fionna felt the outfit loosen around her as she was pulled out and placed on the cool tile of a bathroom.

Fionna felt so exposed. She wanted to curl up in a ball and hide her undergarments. Find the dress and slip back into it. The sound of the water flowing changed from a rushed roar to the light hiss of a shower.

A moment later, Fionna felt her body be lifted up and placed carefully in the tub. The water from the shower's nozzle ran over her fevered body, giving her slight relief. The blonde attempted to open her eyes but the colours of the room blended together.

Closing her eyes, Fionna heard a faint hum of a haunting melody. She couldn't tell if it were from Marshall or from somewhere in her agonizing imagination. The sound felt so far away and drifted Fionna into a comforting haze within herself.

Marshall ran his fingers over Fionna's brow, feeling the heat radiate from her paled flesh. Fionna felt his fingers leave her skin and she wanted to beg him to place his hand back on her forehead. As though hearing her silent pleas, Marshall brought his hand back up and placed a wet washcloth above her eyes. The coolness leaked into her head and stomped at the pain. But she knew the relief would not be for long.

Fionna listened as the faucet creaked again and the water disappeared. The blonde shivered at the sudden cool air and felt herself be picked up and wrapped in a soft towel. Fionna's head rested loosely against Marshall and was carried out of the bathroom.

Where were they going? Fionna couldn't even open her eyes anymore. Her lids felt like weights and her body hung in a numb limp in Marshall's arms.

Velvet sheets met Fionna's body as she was gently laid down on what she presumed was Marshall's bed. The humming continued as Marshall dried Fionna with carefulness she hadn't seen in the man before.

When Marshall was done, he helped tug a button up shirt on Fionna. One arm, the other, then buttoned it up in the front. The man turned Fionna around and slid his hands under the shirt, ensuring the fabric hid her torso from his view. He undid her bra and let it fall to the ground.

Marshall held Fionna in one arm and slid the covers down and tucked the blonde in. He left and Fionna panicked, shooting her arm out and grasped his hand.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm here, Fi. I'm here."

Marshall gave Fionna's hand a squeeze and let it go. He returned with the wet washcloth and placed it on her forehead, his fingers lingering on her skin. He stroked her cheeks, chin, ears and nose that made Fionna fall deeper into her mind and into darkness.

Fionna didn't know how long she had been out for, but her body screamed in pain. The cool velvet of the sheets felt hot and the blonde struggled to release her legs from the tangle that they were in, feeling a sickening feeling rise in her stomach. The girl shot up in the bed and struggled to breathe. She inhaled, feeling sweat cover every inch of her body.

"Fi?"

Fionna couldn't tell where Marshall's voice was coming from, but she felt a light brush of his fingers against her arm and felt her body completely lose it.

Darting out of bed, Fionna ran in the direction of the bathroom. She stumbled and tripped and nearly broke down the door, feeling her body meet cool tile.

A sudden rush of heat shot up Fionna's body and she dragged herself the rest of the way. As soon as she had made it to the toilet, Fionna's body heaved and whatever she had eaten that day left her body and entered the porcelain seat.

The blonde retched, feeling her whole body shudder at the force. Marshall was at her side in a heart beat and held her hair back as the vomit continued to leave her being.

After five minutes, maybe more, Fionna felt her body calm down and waited to see if her stomach had anything else to cough up. Her body trembled as she clutched the toilet in a weak attempt to contain herself.

Marshall stroked the back of Fionna's neck and along her jawline. He began to hum the tune she had heard before and she closed her eyes, feeling her body's quakes lessen with each passing minute.

The tune was clearer before and it wrapped Fionna around it's finger, vibrating in her bones and kissed her pain. The melody consumed her and Fionna wanted to latch onto it and never live life without it again.

Fionna inched away from the toilet and let her fingers weakly flush the content down. She pressed her back into the wall, feeling the sweat build up on her forehead and dribble down her face. Marshall was quick to wipe each stray drop away with his fingers and sat beside her, their arms nearly touching, his shoulder an inch away from her head.

If Fionna wanted to, she could lean against Marshall and fall asleep. The idea was tempting. Her body felt weak and she wondered if she could stand.

"How are you feeling?"

Was that a joke? She felt awful, numb, gross, disgusting, ugly, scared and exposed. She wanted to tell him all of that. But instead, she swallowed her words and whispered "better."

Marshall nodded, ran fingers through his hair and stood up. "Let's get you back to bed." Fionna didn't fight when he wrapped her arm around his neck and hoisted her up onto her feet.

Fionna swayed and Marshall placed his hand onto her shoulder to keep her steady and led her into the bedroom. The blonde's eyes felt swollen and irritated but she knew rubbing at them would hardly make her feel better.

The blonde glanced at a chair placed beside the bed and then at the bed itself and stopped in her tracks, nearly collapsing in place. Marshall looked down at her and frowned. "C'mon, Fi. You really should sleep."

Perhaps it was the drug's effects on her, perhaps it was the built up frustration she had held back in the last month or so, perhaps both, but Fionna felt the feelings she had been holding back bubble up inside of her.

Fionna licked her lips and tried to take a step back. "It's okay. I'll go back to my own room." She felt her body give and she stuck an arm out and found support from a wall.

Marshall took her arm in his hand, frowning down at her. "Yeah, no. You can barely move. If you want to go back I'll carry you-"

"It's okay, Marshall. I've got this."

"What has gotten into you?"

What had gotten into HER? What had gotten into HIM? Fionna wrinkled her nose and tried to pull her arm away but Marshall's fingers were clamped shut around her wrist.

"Marshall, you can stop. No one's here. No one's watching. You don't have to play pretend anymore."

"Pretend?" Marshall's frown deepened. "Is this what this is about? Pretend? You really think I'm 'pretending?'" His voice rose and Fionna felt her eyes widen, regretting her actions.

Marshall grabbed her other wrist and drew his face close, lips pulling back and nose scrunching up in anger. "You really think this is pretend? Me washing you, dressing you, and not sleeping a wink to make sure you get through this? You really think this is pretend?"

"I didn't...I don't-"

"You don't what?" Fionna could feel the poison in his words. "Don't understand why I'm doing this? Why I even bother making sure you're okay? Why I don't just let you suffer by yourself? Well gee, Fi. I wonder why. I really fucking wonder why-"

Fionna stood on her toes and snapped Marshall's down to her and kissed him as deeply as she could. She poured the held back passion within her into the kiss, her lips roughly moving over his.

Marshall stood there unmoving. Fionna lowered herself and took a shaky step back, trying to find a reaction in his face. Did she blow it? Would she be thrown out and forced to fend for herself and her sister and Lorn again?

Before Fionna could even consider heading for the door to leave, Marshall shoved her against the wall and his lips locked with Fionna's roughly. The raven haired man held Fionna's wrists to the wall and the blonde struggled to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her.

When the shock wore off, Fionna kissed Marshall as roughly back as she could, each struggled for dominance. Fionna worked one wrist free and wrapped it around Marshall's neck and tangled her fingers into his hair.

Letting her other wrist go, Marshall lifted Fionna up against the wall and pressed into her, the blonde digging her legs into his torso. Fionna's now free arm wrapped over his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, fighting the dizziness that wash over.

Fionna threw her head back and breathed, filling her lungs with air. Marshall didn't waste the moment and drew his lips eagerly down her throat The blonde felt her breath hitch in her throat, her fingernails digging deeper into his back with one hand and the other tightening in his dark locks.

Marshall drew his head lower and lower and impatiently popped open the first few buttons of the shirt she had on, exposing cleavage. Fionna gasped as the man kissed the skin, sending Fionna's already shivering body into a frenzy.

Fionna tore Marshall's head up and kissed him roughly, feeling her head reel. The blonde loosened her legs and let herself drop to the ground. Marshall let her use his arms for balanced and turned him around and shoved him against the wall in a weak effort.

Closing the space, Fionna loosened the tie from around Marshall's neck and let it fall. She clumsily clawed at the buttons on his shirt and finally ripped it open to expose his chest.

Marshall bent his head down and kissed her roughly as Fionna ran her fingers down his torso, memorizing every raised muscle, scar, and blemish she reached.

The raven haired man took Fionna by the shoulders and forced her backwards, not daring to break the kiss. The edge of the bed rammed into the back of Fionna's knees and she immediately fell back into the soft fabric.

Fionna opened her eyes and gazed up at Marshall. He stared her down with hunger in his eyes and she felt her lower lip tremble. She took in the sight of Marshall's composure, drinking him in.

Marshall seemed to search Fionna's eyes, a question in his own. His blue irises glided over hers and shone when they found the answer they were looking for.

The raven haired man dipped down and undid the rest of Fionna's shirt. Sitting up, Fionna let the shirt drop and gazed into Marshall's eyes.

Marshall kneeled down so that they were eye to eye and Fionna's heart slammed into her chest, both from the drug's after effects and the long built up feelings she for the man in front of her.

Fionna closed the distance between them, this time kissing the man softly. He wrapped his arms around her, his shirt hanging from his arms and along his back.

The two kissed slowly, their lips dancing together in a long forgotten waltz. Marshall pulled Fionna into his arms and lifted her up. He placed her on the bed and gently rested on top of her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Fionna found Marshall's belt and undid it. Marshall took her hand and helped her slide the accessary off and let it fall to the carpet.

Fionna and Marshall's limbs became tangled in one another as the last of the articles of clothing were long forgotten. Fionna couldn't feel anything besides the warmth of Marshall's body against hers and the hot kisses he left behind on her jaw, neck, and chest as he found his way lower and lower.

That night, Fionna forgot about everything she thought that mattered to her. At that moment, she didn't have a sister she had left behind. At that moment, she had never lost a friend. At that moment, she wasn't in love with the son of the Godfather or even a girl trapped in a world run in poverty and violence.

Fionna lost herself to the rhythm Marshall rocked her in, lost herself in the sweet smell of their sex and lost herself in the sweet humming of the tune that breathed from Marshall's lips. With every beautiful noise that escaped from Marshall, she felt alive. And with every thrust and loving move made, she saw heaven.


	18. Memory of a Memory

**_"Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to never was there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it" _**  
**_― Flannery O'Connor_**

Fionna tried to blink away the charcoal smoke that engulfed the darkness around her. She took a step and tried to see where she was going.

"Hello?"

Her voice echoed through the vast darkness. Fionna chose a direction and began to walk. A door appeared ahead and Fionna sped up until she stood before it. Taking the knob into her hand, the blonde let the door slide open with ease.

The room before her looked so...familiar. Fionna gazed at the beat up furniture, the door frame that led to a kitchen and at the hand made wooden toys thrown around the room.

Fionna turned and was surprised to find the door gone. She was alone in the room and tried to understand why she seemed to recognize her surroundings.

'Mom? Do you and Dad really have to go to work today?' A child whined in another room. Fionna tip toed through a door and down a hallway. The blonde gasped in shock as she gazed upon her eight year old self.

Child Fionna crossed her arms and gave a pout. Fionna's mother, a petite woman with Fionna's same thick blonde locks, chuckled at her daughter. 'I'm sorry, sweetie. But we have to. We'll be back soon, though. Okay? Where's the hat I made you?'

'There's a hole in it. Dad's fixing it for me.'

Fionna jumped as her father walked right through her. 'Did I hear my name?'

"Josh, we're going to be late. We can't afford to be late again.' Fionna's mother said with a frown.

'I know, I know.' Fionna's father bent down in front of her younger self. 'I believe this is yours, Little Bunny Fu Fu.' He took out Fionna's beanie from his pocket and slipped it onto little Fionna's head and made sure to cover the little girl's eyes.

Younger Fionna giggled and lifted her hat so she could see her father. "Da-a-ad!" She whined with a laugh. Her father ruffled the hat's ears and kissed Fionna's head. 'Love you, baby doll. We promise we'll be back quicker than-'

'A rabbit!'

'That's right, doll. A rabbit.'

Fionna felt a lump in her throat. "Don't let them leave." Her own voice scared her. But the family before her didn't seem to hear her.

Fionna's father stood up and took his wife's hand. 'You be good to Cake now, you hear? Or there won't be any birthday gifts for you come next week.' He winked and younger Fionna lit up.

"Don't listen to them, Fionna. Don't let them go. Don't let them walk through that door!"

Fionna's mother opened the door and walked out. Fionna's father stood in the doorway and winked at his daughter. 'Love you, doll. We'll be back before you know it.'

"Fionna, don't let them go!" When did her voice become so shrill? When had she begun to cry?

Fionna's father shut the door and Fionna looked from the door and at her younger self. "You shouldn't have let them go! You shouldn't have allowed them to leave! Do you know what you've done?" She screamed at the little girl. Younger her turned and made eye contact, the blue in her eyes cold and uncaring. 'You think you could have done any better?'

Fionna felt sick. She took uneasy steps and walked away from her younger self. Away from the front door. The blonde dashed through a door and found herself in the kitchen. Outside the barred up windows, the skies were grey and lacked sympathy.

Cake sat at the kitchen table, her tanned body hunched over as she violently sobbed, her once long and golden hair shielded her face. A piece of paper sat beside her and Fionna wanted to reach out to her sister.

'Cake? What's going on? Why are you crying?'

Fionna felt her lower lip tremble as her younger self tugged at Cake's shirt. The eighteen year old continued to violently sob and ignored the little girl beside her.

'Cake?'

Fionna felt sick. Her head spun and she knew she didn't have to look at the paper. Didn't have to read it to know what it said.

'Cake?'

Venture residence,

We are sad to notify that a tragedy has occurred. Between 12:30 and 2:30 last night, a riot had broken out on Fifth Street and First Avenue. Fifty two pedestrians were killed and another one hundred and thirty six were critically injured. Among the dead were Margaret and Joshua Venture. We are deeply sorry for your loss and will have them in our

memory. Our deepest apologies for you to be told of your

loss, we hope they may rest in peace.

Sincerely,

Pablo Rossi, Mayor of New York, New York

Fionna fell to her knees and gasped for air. Tears streamed down her face and she felt the breath be knocked out of her. Knocked out of her just like how it was when the news sunk in when she was just a child.

'Cake, what's going on? Why are you crying? We can fix this when Mom and Dad get home. We can fix this, Cake. Cake, please stop crying? Cake? Cake?'

Fionna woke up with a gasp. Sweat drenched her body and she shakily inhaled as she tried to sit up. The blonde couldn't move a few inches without being stopped. Surprised, her eyes lowered down to see a toned arm wrapped around her waist.

Memories flooded back to her from the night before and Fionna felt her cheeks heat up. Her eyes traced the arm to Marshall, whose head was snuggled into the side of her torso.

Fionna watched the man inhale and exhale, his chest rise and fall and felt his breathe tickle her exposed skin. She laid back down and played with his hair, lost in thought. The dream lingered in her mind, a taste of bad memories rested on her tongue.

Fionna slipped out of Marshall's tight grip and tossed her legs over the side of the bed. Her body met with cold air and she felt light headed. The blonde pushed herself away from the bed and shakily took a few steps. She scanned the ground for something she could tug on to make it less cold and settled with a plaid shirt she found hanging from a chair.

The blonde partially buttoned up the shirt. It fell to an inch or so above her knees and hung loosely on her petite frame. Fionna glanced back at Marshall's sleeping form and entered the bathroom.

Water still lingered in the bathtub from hours prior. Fionna glanced at the toilet and felt her stomach churn. If she had a choice, she'd never look at a toilet again.

Fionna leaned against the sink, sighed, and thought about how terrible the events of last night had unfolded. They were so close. If Hunson had took a sip before the other man had...

'You think you could have done any better?'

Fionna tore away from the sink and loudly gasped. Her heart sped up and she placed her hand over her chest to calm herself down. Why had she dreamed about THAT? Why now? She hadn't dreamt about her parents death for years. She had gotten over it by the time she was ten and her nightmares shifted over to other concerns.

The blonde let water run from the sink's faucet, took some into her hands and splashed her face. Fionna turned it off, feeling her whole body lightly tremble.

'You think you could have done any better?'

Fionna made her way back into Marshall's bed. Her senses were spiked and everything she looked at caused her anxiety to increase. Could they have done any better?

Fionna shook her head and sprinted to the bed, climbed in and threw the sheets over her. She snuggled closer to Marshall, took his arm, placed it around her like how it was when she woke up and placed her head under his chin.

Marshall stirred and opened one eye. He blinked with sleep and lightly yawned, gladly securing his arm around Fionna's body and pulled her closer. "You're cold."

"Am I?"

Marshall's skin felt hot against her own. He snuggled his nose into her head and felt how drenched she was from waking up in cold sweat.

"Feeling any better?"

"Weak, but better. I never want to see a toilet agin." Fionna sad with a frown.

Marshall blinked and let out a laugh. It came out clear and strong and Fionna snapped back in surprise. Thay was the first time she heard him laugh. Really laugh. Not the light laugh he used when he was slightly amused.

The raven haired man inhaled and dragged Fionna to wear she was pressed against him. She blushed as Marshall snuggled the crook of his nose into her neck. "Well, I can't guarantee that. But I can guarantee you'll never be drinking or doing any kind of drugs again."

Fionna blushed and scowled. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. I had no idea he'd drug me like that. Especially at your father's-"

Marshall rolled over and dragged Fionna along so she was partially laying on him. "Fi, relax. I'm just messing with you. I'll never let that happen to you again. Besides, the guy is going to regret ever even thinking about doing that to you."

The raven haired man kissed the top of her head, temple, ear, jawline and neck in a slow line. Fionna closed her eyes and felt his soft lips dance over her skin. Marshall gently dragged his fingers down her side and felt her ribs. Fionna let out a shuddered sigh and rested her hand over the silver cross of his necklace.

"I should feed you better..."

Fionna squirmed slightly and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to this. I'm used to not eating much."

Marshall frowned and slipped out from under her. He rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. When Marshall stretched, Fionna could see the muscles in his shoulders and back clench.

Fionna propped herself up on her elbow and watched as he pulled on some boxers and went through a drawer in a dresser. "What are you-?"

Marshall threw an item of clothing at her and she nearly dodged being slapped in the face by some boxers. Fionna raised an eyebrow and held them up.

"Do you want to walk around in just a shirt? I mean, hey, if you really want to I won't complain." Marshall said as a grin formed on his face. "Got those a while back as a gift. Too small for me but will probably fit you better than anything else I own."

Fionna blushed and tugged the boxers on. They were a little bit loose but the elastic of the underwear let the item of clothing hang loosely on her frame.

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around Fionna's waist and the blonde gasped. Marshall's breath tickled her ear and she could hear a smile in his voice. "You look good in my clothes. Suits you."

Marshall let go, slipped his hand into hers and pulled her towards the door. Fionna intwined her fingers in his as a smile tugged at her lips.

The hallways of the apartment were isolated and silent. Marshall led Fionna to the kitchen and the blonde tugged Marshall's shirt around her shyly as though she half expected Pierre to be there making breakfast. The elderly man was no where to be seen and Fionna relaxed.

Marshall led Fionna to the kitchen's island, placed his hands on her hips and hoisted her up onto the countertop. His fingers lingered and Fionna felt her head swoon as she tried to piece together the thoughts in her head.

"Not to be rude, Marshall, but why are we here?"

"Killing the Godfather. Fi, I'm making breakfast. That's the point of a kitchen if I remember correctly." He kissed her and walked to the fridge, a cocky smile on his face.

Fionna blushed. "You're making breakfast? You can cook?" She blurted it out before she could think and Marshall let out a snort.

"Fi, I'm Italian. I'm pretty sure there's a rule book somewhere that states I have to know how to cook." He opened the fridge and peered in. He gathered items into his arms and closed the door with his shoulder."But, hey, if you don't believe me, you can always test the food and be my judge." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Fionna let out a laugh.

"Okay, I believe you. I'm sorry if I hurt your ego." Fionna said with a joking tone. Marshall put his hand up to his heart as though he were in pain and pouted at her. "Damn straight you better be sorry."

Marshall grinned and got to work. He pulled out utensils he needed and reached up for a pan that hung on a rack. A hiss pierced through his lips and Marshall brought his bad arm to him in attempt to relieve his still healing arm.

Fionna began to slide off the counter. "Here, let me get it-"

"No, I've go this." Marshall said harshly through clenched teeth. Fionna propped herself back up onto the counter and watched the man take the pan with his good arm and set it down beside the bowl.

Marshall threw in eggs, olive oil, and cheese he grated himself into a bowl with practiced ease. Fionna watched with silent content as Marshall sliced up sausage and threw it in as he added other ingredients that made Fionna's mouth water.

Marshall poured the contents into a pan and placed it into the preheated oven. He wiped at his brow and grinned at the blonde. "If you don't like this, then I've failed my linage."

Fionna let out a laugh and Marshall hoisted himself up next to her on the counter. The blonde leaned against his arm. "So, what are you cooking exactly?"

"Tre formaggi fritata."

"Bless you."

Marshall let out a laugh. "It's a delicious sausage and cheese breakfast. Kind of like a pie in a sense. My mom used to make this all the time when I was a kid. It's my dad's favorite."

At the mention of his father, Marshall's smile dropped and he grew silent. Fionna gazed up at him and took his hand in hers. For a brief second, Marshall looked as though he was about to tear his hand out of hers but the look passed and the raven haired man gave her fingers a squeeze.

"We'll get our chance, Marshall."

Marshall nodded and looked away lost in thought. Fionna sat there in silence and wondered if she should say something.

The oven let out a beep and Fionna jolted, startled. Marshall hopped off of the counter and opened the oven, put on mitts from a hook on the wall and took their breakfast out.

The smell alone made Fionna's stomach growl in hunger and she did the best she could to cover it up. Marshall placed the pan on a cushion to cool and slipped off the mitts.

"Fionna, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Do you ever contact your parents? I mean, since you've moved in. If I recall, no one's ever tried contacting you."

Fionna tore her eyes away from Marshall's and picked up an apple from a bowl of fruit beside her. She played with the fruit and, felt the thick skin of the apple along her fingers. She could feel Marshall's eyes on her as he waited for an answer. An answer for a question she hoped wouldn't be asked from the raven haired man before her.

"No. And don't expect anything. They've been dead for years."

She hesitated with the apple, her small fingers lingered over the skin. Fionna tried to make sense of the emotion that radiated from Marshall but couldn't pin point it.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Fi. I had no idea. How'd they...I mean, how-?"

"They died in a riot that broke out when I was a kid. Never knew if they were on their way home when it happened or if it broke out before, but we got a letter explaining what happened."

Fionna peeked up at Marshall. He held her gaze and for a moment they were both silent.

"What happened after that?"

"My sister, Cake, took over everything. Her boyfriend helped her find a place we could afford and bring in money. Ended up selling everything we owned from the house prior just to ensure we could survive."

Marshall nodded and looked away and scratched at the light shadow that had formed on his face. "The Gambinos had been dying for the location for years. I'm shocked you were able to get it when they couldn't."

Fionna smiled and rested the apple in her lap. "Cake's smart. Really smart. She made a deal with the owner who couldn't afford to pay them back. So Cake took the rights and the deed and turned in the money he owed, so she was able to claim the place her own."

The blonde smiled at the few memories that crawled into her head of that day. "Cake's always gone out of her way to make sure we were all safe. Always did her best to bring in extra cash to make sure we had at least one hearty meal a week, one gift for Christmas and our birthdays and kept the place clean and orderly. She became my mom when I needed one the most. Kept me going to school and treated life as though we didn't have hardships or worries. That we could be kicked out and be living on the streets any day. And..." Fionna felt the tears well up in her eyes and roll down her cheeks before she could stop them. She wiped at them with her sleeve in hope that Marshall hadn't seen the water that escaped from her eyes.

"And I left her without a simple explanation. Left her and Lorn to fend for themselves without me. Ditched them when they needed me them most and-"

"And you left them so you could promise a better life."

Fionna stopped trying to cover her tears and looked up at Marshall. "But what if we fail, Marshall? What then? We lose our heads and they lose theirs. All of those struggles would be for nothing."

"Then that's why we won't get caught." Marshall smiled and wiped away Fionna's tears with his thumb. "Fi, I promise I will never let them get hurt. We've got this. The future is ours."

Fionna gave Marshall a weak smile. He beamed and turned towards the pan. "It should be cooled enough to eat now. Hungry?"

Before the blonde could say yes, her stomach loudly growled and she covered it with her arms, a shy smile on her face. Marshall laughed, took out a knife and cut into their breakfast.

"It's okay. I think I get the memo."

Fionna smiled sheepishly. Marshall brought the pan over, shuffled through a drawer for utensils and leaped onto the counter with ease.

Marshall placed the pan between them, leaned over and opened a cabinet to the side of him and fished out two plates. The dish smelt heavenly and Fionna closed her eyes. She could smell the numerous ingredients within that she and Cake would have sold one of their fingers for in the past if they could.

The raven haired man closed the cabinet and turned toward her with a smile. He extended a plate to her and grimaced as the pain in his bad arm shot through him.

Fionna quickly took the plate away. "Marshall, you should be careful. You're still healing."

"I'll do damn well what I please." Marshall said with a stern harshness.

Fionna flinched. Marshall ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. "Here, let's just eat." He cut away at the frittata and placed a slice on her plate. He gently guided a fork and knife into her fingers and went to grab a slice of his own.

The blonde nudged the food with one of the pointed spikes of her fork and finally scooped up a slice and placed it into her mouth.

Immediately, many tastes washed over Fionna's tongue and she nearly gagged at the richness. She closed her eyes on whim and slowly chewed. The blonde never wanted the taste to go away. She could live it, inhale it and dream about it for the rest of her life if she could.

"I knew you'd like it."

Fionna almost choked when she swallowed and felt heat rise in her cheeks. Marshall beamed down at her with a cocky look in his eyes. The blonde smiled and wiped away any stray crumbs.

Marshall lifted his plate as though he were saying 'cheers.' Fionna mimicked him and he began to eat. The blonde's stomach growled and it took everything in her not to smash her face into the food and scarf everything down.

When Fionna had room in her mouth, she would shove more food in. She barely allowed herself to breathe and she teared up from both the taste and nearly choking on the food twice.

"Whoa, slow down there, partner. The food won't disappear, you know.

Fionna chewed the rest of the food in her mouth and swallowed. She gazed down at her now empty plate with embarrassment and she imagined herself licking the plate clean.

"And to think you haven't been fed in the past few months." Marshall said with a chuckle and took his and her plates to the sink.

Fionna remained silent as Marshall let the water from the sink run over the plates. He glanced back at her and turned off the water. "We did feed you, right?"

Fionna finally got the nerve and shook her head. "Pierre was too worried about you."

A vein stuck out of Marshall's neck as his his temper rose in his eyes. Fionna stuttered and continued. "But it's okay. I ate when I could. Just some salads and snacked on a few things that I thought would be all right with you two."

Marshall slumped against the counter, rubbed at his face with one hand and loudly groaned. Fionna felt panic rise in her chest and she hopped off the counter.

"I'm really sorry. I should have asked. I'm-"

"Sorry?" Marshall scoffed. "I should be the one saying 'sorry.' You've been living here and I haven't even fed you properly."

The kitchen fell silent and Fionna wondered if she should say something. Marshall looked away, the vein in his neck still jetting out. When a moment crept by, Fionna was startled by the sudden slam of Marshall's hand as it hit the counter.

"From now on we'll cook dinner all together as a family. No ifs, ands, or buts."

Fionna felt a smile tug at her lips. "As a family?"

Marshall gazed down at her with the softest look she'd ever seen on his face. "Yeah, Fi. You're family now. We might as well start acting like one from now on."

A smile formed on Fionna's face without her realizing it. Marshall slipped his hand into hers and squeezed her fingers. A thought flashed into Fionna's mind and her smile faded.

"But what about your father?"

Marshall snorted. "The old man's death can wait. The holidays are coming up, so let's just let him enjoy it while it lasts."

Fionna's smile returned but a nagging feeling tugged at her heart. Marshall pulled at her hand and the two walked back down the hallways and towards their rooms.

The blonde felt Marshall's fingers and palm in her own as she desperately searched her mind for why she felt so...uneasy. Hunson's death would wait and she could spend more time with Marshall. Real time. Where she didn't have to hide her feelings or fake anything. She could get to see what holiday traditions he and Pierre had and indulge in the foods she thought she would never get to try. So why did she feel like she was...missing something? A horrible detail?

Fionna shrugged off the thought as Marshall's door came into view. She felt her heart sigh and slipped her hand out of his and began to walk past it.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"To my room?"

"If I remember correctly, your room is THIS way." He said as he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. Fionna let out a surprise gasp as Marshall's shoulder snuggled into her stomach and the man walked them towards his room. Happiness bubbled within her and she let the memory of her nightmare and the nagging feeling within her to fade away as Marshall led her into his room. For the time, Marshall was hers and hers alone. And it would take more than the wrath of both heaven and hell to tear her away from him.


	19. I Remember You

**_"All that glitters is not gold."_**

**_- Robert Frost, Nothing Gold Can Stay_**

The pictures littered the wall in a sloppy collage. Fionna finished taping the last photograph from her pile onto Marshall's wall and wiped at her brow. She had been busy transferring everything from her room to his and it hadn't been easy. She had chosen to do it alone and Marshall had given her the space she needed.

Fionna looked over her handy work with a smile. It wasn't Marshall's style, but to her it was a nice addition. It represented how far they both had come in partnership. And for that, it would never be out of place to her.

Weeks had crept by and it had been filled with nothing but relaxation and Christmas merriment, just as Marshall had promised.

Fionna recalled the morning she had woken up alone and walked into the study to find Marshall and Pierre setting up the largest Christmas tree she had ever seen. The three of them had worked hard that day to dress the tree in ornaments, bows, lights and strings of popcorn. When they had finished, Marshall had allowed her to put the angel on top of the tree. She had to climb a ladder to get to the top, and as she had placed the angel upon the tree, Fionna felt a sense of comfort. She looked over the room and pretended to see through the eyes of the angel. Never before had she felt so...significant.

Nights had been filled with baking cookies and numerous other goodies Fionna had never had in her life let along heard of it. Christmas pudding, hot cocoa, egg nog and much more. The thought of the food made Fionna's mouth lightly water and she wiped her mouth with her arm subconsciously.

The blonde heard footsteps come into the room and walk up behind her. Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and Fionna felt the familiar warmth of Marshall's face as he placed his chin on top of her head.

"It looks good." Fionna heard him mutter. The blonde smiled and lightly placed her hands on his arms. She leaned into him as the two looked over her work.

"You're just saying that."

"Yeah, you're right. I really think it can use more spice. I'll pick up some Playboy magazines when I can and we can add some of those cut outs."

Fionna elbowed him lightly in the side with a smile. "Marshall, no. You're not funny."

Marshall chuckled and slipped away from her. "You ready, yet? The car's out front."

"Yeah, just let me put my shoes on." Fionna said as she plopped down on the ground and pulled her combat boots toward her. Marshall waited patiently but gazed at the shoes with a slight disdain.

"Why do you wear those? We could get you something a little more...comfortable." He said as his eyes roamed over the torn and tattered material of the aged shoes with a faint hint of disguist.

Fionna finished tying the laces and stared at them in a long silence. "They used to be my dad's when he was a kid. His granddad thought it would be smart for him to wear them with how the world was turning out. My dad wore them every day until he grew out of them. He wanted to give them to my sister but it wasn't her thing. So he gave them to me on my birthday the year before their death. I couldn't fit into them at the time, but my dad knew I'd grow into them. I couldn't until I was fourteen, and since then I never really wanted to wear anything else."

The blonde played with one of the shoe laces. The boots reflected her family well. Old but lasting, scarred in places and torn in others, filthy from poverty and slowly, oh so very slowly they were falling apart.

Fionna's eyes flickered up to meet Marshall's and she could see the detached look in his eyes. He didn't understand, she knew, but he'd respect her reason and allow her to cherish what she had.

"Come on. Let's get going." Marshall said after a long pause. He rubbed at his face with his trench coat's sleeve and stuck his arm out to her. Fionna took his hand and Marshall pulled her to her feet.

The two took the elevator down to the ground below. The streets were layered with ice and the sidewalks were covered in snow. Some people had taken the liberty of shoveling pathways for the pedestrians but the people of New York already had stomped the snow down on their own.

Fionna exhaled, her breath visible in the cold night air. She felt the heat in her body radiate within her as her face flushed with the kiss of winter.

Marshall placed a hand on the blonde's waist and guided her to a parked limo. The raven haired man held the door open for Fionna and she happily slid in. Her companion followed suit as he shut the door behind himself.

The car immediately started up and pulled out into the city's streets. Fionna watched the night life pass by in a blur in an array of colours that the blonde had never been able to appreciate before until that moment.

Marshall wrapped his arm around Fionna and the teen happily turned to him with curiosity in her eyes. "Where are we going?" The man chuckled and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. "If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise."

Fionna nodded at the answer, unhappy with it, and returned her attention back to the scenery streaking by outside. Ten minutes later, the car pulled up to a center where the lights shone the brightest and the crowds were larger.

The door to the limo opened and Marshall slipped out. He stuck his hand into the car for Fionna to take. She gladly took it and slipped out, her boots landed on iced concrete and her face blushed at the brush of cold air.

Fionna watched the people walk by with numerous bags, some chatted as some rushed by without a glance at the others around them. All of them, Fionna realized, were upper class. Their clothes had been outfits she had seen in lavish magazines and stores she never dared even loitering around. These people were the people she had feared. Wives, husbands, children of the Mafia.

As she looked at the people now, she didn't know why she had been so scared of them. The women mingled with old friends, men smoked cigars and some children begged their parents for toys and food she herself never had as a child. But she knew underneath the innocence of the situation, the blonde knew these were the people that let others that couldn't afford what they had to starve. Hidden in the pockets of the men were pistols ready to kill anyone that messed with them. Underneath the smiles and joyous laughter were people who wouldn't bat an eye at anyone that were considered beneath them. Fionna realized her fists had been clenched and she immediately released them.

The two stood in the heart of Times Square. Snow glistened on the buildings as ads glowed in the night air with products and promises of shows to see on Broadway. When Fionna took a step back with her mind from the obvious, she felt wonder overwhelm her with the idea of being in such a grand place.

Marshall slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. "Thought you might like this."

"It's beautiful." She breathed. She felt the truth on her lips and smiled. Marshall lightly squeezed her fingers and Fionna licked her lips to keep them from chapping.

Marshall led her through the people and along stores. He peered through the windows until finally he came to an opening in a large building.

The raven haired man led Fionna through the sliding double doors and into the largest, and first, shopping mall Fionna had ever seen.

In places it was run down but guards filled each exit of the building. Their guns were held in place and their gazes were glued to their surroundings. The upper class families walked by them as though they were oblivious to the men ready to protect them. Protect them from people beneath them in class. People like Fionna.

Marshall tapped her out of her thoughts and slid his arm protectively around her shoulder. "Pretty cool, right?" The blonde blinked and looked past the bourgeoisie and at the expensive looking Christmas decorations all around the mall. Garland hung from the walls and bordered shops' doors and window displays.

"Yeah..." Fionna pried her eyes away from the scene and gazed up at Marshall. "What are we doing here?"

Marshall tucked a few stray hairs of hers behind her ear. "Giving you what you deserve."

Fionna felt her nose scrunch up in confusion but everything clicked in her head. "Marshall! No! You don't have to! I-"

"Have been living practically on a few shirts and pants since you've been living with me. You need jackets and proper attire for winter. And...besides..." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I think it's time we make the apartment into 'our' home now."

Fionna felt her lips twitch into a smile and felt her heart skip a beat. The raven haired man slipped his hand into hers and the two led one another through the shopping center.

The blonde quickly forgot the out of place feeling she had in her heart. Her enemies melted together into a crowd of humans. Faces were faces and that was that.

She and Marshall dined at Fionna's first formal restaurant and the raven haired man took her from store to store collecting items that the blonde never thought she would own.

As the cashier handed Fionna her bag at one store, the blonde frowned and felt the wealth of the items sink into her hands. Marshall glanced down at her and frowned as he took his credit card back and tucked it into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Everything okay, Fi?"

Marshall led her out of the store and the bag suddenly felt heavier in her hands. "Is this okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...is this okay?" She moved the bag up and down as though she were weighing it.

Marshall's eyebrows knitted together. "Of course it's okay, Fi. Why wouldn't it be?"

She looked around as though she had just woken up. Fionna looked like she was torn between hugging the bag and throwing it on the ground in disgust.

"I just...I don't think...I mean-" Fionna swallowed and held the bag closer to her. "I just...I can only accept these gifts on one condition."

Marshall's eyebrows rose and he played with the sleeve of his coat. "And what would that be?"

Fionna motioned for Marshall to lean in. The man hesitated but did as he was told. The blonde could feel the warmth of his skin radiating from him as she whispered in his ear and smelt the comforting and familiar scent on his skin.

A moment later, Marshall leaned back with an expression that told Fionna he wasn't happy with her request, but to her surprise and astonishment, he nodded his head. "Fine."

Fionna smiled as they finished up their time at the shopping center. She pictured her sister and Lorn's faces upon waking up on Christmas morning to a knock at their door and find Marshall's men standing there with handfuls of gifts of things Cake and Lorn could never afford. A gift from their baby sister reminding them that she may be gone but they are not forgotten. The blonde closed her eyes and wished she could be there to see their expressions. But imagining would have to do.

A limo was waiting for them on the curb when Fionna and Marshall parted from the shopping center. The snow ceased to fall from the sky and by this time Times Square was beginning to seem almost abandoned. Rich families had gone home and those who dared to wander where those that worked at stores nearby, Mafia members that searched for someone below them to pick a fight with, and poor souls that had their homes taken away and were left to walk the streets in the unforgiving cold until they starved or froze to death.

Fionna took a step towards the limo and tripped. She fell onto her knees and hands. Marshall quickly pulled her up and started dragging her to the car.

The blonde fussed as she tried to spy what she had tripped on, but Marshall continued his tight grip and struggled with her to keep from looking back.

"Marshall, what's your issue?"

"Don't look back, Fionna."

"Why? What's wrong-?"

"Just don't look back."

"You're being ridiculous. I-"

Fionna struggled enough to where she could crane her neck to look back at the spot and her blood ran cold. There, partially buried in the snow, was a man somewhere in his mid thirties. His skin had grown grey from death, his eyes open and glazed over.

The blonde shoved and pushed until she was able to slip out of Marshall's grip and raced to where the man laid. It hadn't been that long ago he had fallen and lost his mortality. An hour at most.

The man looked small and fragile beneath the white blanket. From his clothes, Fionna could tell he was poor. Probably lucky if he even had a stable place to stay. His clothes were torn and patched up poorly and his hair was shaggy and uneven in places from a homemade haircut he most likely had given himself.

Fionna couldn't fathom why he was out here when he knew he'd die. Especially in the heart of the Mafia's territory. Her eyes drew up to the display case above him and her heart sank. It was a display for a toy store within. It had been dressed in pink with dolls and other toys any little girl would die for. Her heart clenched and she understood. A father would do anything to make his daughter happy. Especially on the Eve of the day that was made to give.

The blonde could feel Marshall approach her. She felt the heat of his body directly behind her and could hear the gears in his head churn as he tried to find the right thing to say.

"Fionna, I...he-"

The blonde turned from the body and lowered her head. Her skin grew white and riddled with goosebumps. "Let's go home." Her voice was barely audible over the noises that echoed through the city and the winter wind that whistled through the skyscrapers.

Fionna didn't wait for Marshall's answer. She walked towards the limo with lead in her feet and a weight on her heart. Pierre stood at the door and opened it for her with sympathetic eyes.

The blonde slid into the limo and huddled in her seat. She gazed out the window and held her arms to her chest as Marshall entered the car a moment later.

The door slammed shut and the car roared to life within a few minutes. The two sat in silence and swayed as the limo pulled forward and into the city's streets.

Fionna watched the buildings pass by and as the lights faded into one another. It didn't register in her brain that they were heading away from Marshall's place until the limo turned in the other direction than they usually went to return home.

"Marshall, where are we going now?"

"You'll see. I have one more surprise for you." Fionna tried to read the expression on his face but it was fruitless. The man gazed out of his window and Fionna decided to do the same.

They turned down a few blocks and half an hour later Fionna could make out trees in the distance. The limo pulled up and when the blonde stepped out, she was greeted by the dying entrance of Central Park.

Marshall's hand slipped into Fionna's and the blonde's mind raced. "Why are we at Central Park? Isn't this place forbidden?"

Marshall snorted and tugged at her hand. The two stepped into the entrance. "Doesn't really stop anybody. Those who come here come here to die. And for the rest it's just become a junkyard."

It was true. The deeper the two walked into the park, the more and more lifeless it became. The trees that still stood were brown and black with age and from past fires. The grass, from what could be seen sticking out of the snow in places, was frail and grey.

In a lake nearby, the water was frozen over and items of trash can be seen as faded blobs beneath the surface. Pieces of furniture had been abandoned here and there and eerie silhouettes poked up towards the sky as though begging some sort of God to take them out of their misery.

Eventually Marshall led Fionna to stone stairs surrounded by dead grass, snow and decaying wood. They ascended the stairs and Fionna, from what she could make hidden in the snow, saw plaques. She strained her eyes to read what the words could say but gave up after not being able to read a handful she came across.

They passed a sundial rusting amongst snow and rotting nature. The overpowering smell of decaying flowers hit Fionna's nose and she felt herself lightly sway. She could almost hear the ghost of the plants that had one stood here. That had once boasted life but now lie under the sin the world had created.

Marshall stopped and Fionna nearly bumped into him. She looked at him confused but her eyes fell to the ground before them and her lips parted and a gasp escaped her lips.

Before her stood a fresh grave no more than a month old. A headstone stuck out awkwardly from the ground, the snow a mocking halo around it.

Fionna's eyes glided over the words printed on the stone but couldn't make sense of what she was reading. But in time, it connected:

She was looking at Gumball's grave.

Gumball's name was neatly etched in bold letters over the stone. His death date was marked with care and some flowers had been carved around the sides to give it a semi sincere and formal look. No other information was given about the man but at the bottom contained the sentence: "Teacher, friend, citizen."

Fionna didn't have to look to know Marshall's eyes were on her. The blonde felt an overpowering sense of the world around her. The air seemed cooler and her senses spiked.

Her eyes lowered to the ground where there were a pathetic display of flowers meant for the dead man. There were an assortment of arborvitae, iris, marigold and rue wrapped in rosemary. The flowers had started to wither from the cold, but Fionna could tell that hey had been placed there earlier that day. Meant to be there to welcome her arrival.

The blonde noticed a plaque not that far away sticking out of a mount of snow. Fionna peered closer and this time could make out the words.

'There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,love, remember: and there is pansies. That's for thoughts.

Hamlet, iv, 5'

Fionna took off a glove and fell to a knee. She reached over and brushed her fingers against Gumball's name with hesitant fingers. She could almost perfectly picture the way his blue eyes lit up when he was alive, how curly his ginger locks were and how neat he had kept his clothes. It wasn't that long ago, Fionna knew, that he was alive. Alive and well. But now...now he was six feet below her, nothing but a forgotten dead man left to rot with the rest of the world thanks to The Godfather.

Marshall took a few steps back and Fionna could hear the hiss of his warm breath in the cold air. She appreciated the space. The stone felt cold and looked so lonely amongst the debris.

The blonde's lips trembled. She felt the need to say something, anything, but words wouldn't come to her. What could she say? It was thanks to her Gumball had to suffer this fate. Tears stung her eyes and she bit her lip to hold back from breaking down.

Fionna took the scarf from around her neck and wrapped it around the gravestone. With shaky fingers, she neatly tied the fabric into a simple knot so it wouldn't slide down the stone. She stood up, her legs beneath her felt like they'd give out and she knew she couldn't stay a moment longer.

As though sensing Fionna's strength leaving her, Marshall wrapped his arm around her waist and gently guided her away from the grave.

The air chilled Fionna's neck but she didn't seem to notice. The park seemed to loom over her and all she wanted right then was to get out. Get far away from that place as she could.

They reached the entrance to the park and Fionna felt relief wash over her when she saw the awaiting limo. Marshall held the door open for her and she happily slid in.

The warmth of the car calmed the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Marshall sat beside her and shut the door. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

Fionna felt something plop onto her hand and she peered down as she tried to make sense of what she had just felt. To her surprise, she felt the sensation again and watched as tear after tear fell from her eyes.

She tried brushing them away before Marshall could see, but he already had. He pulled her into a hug and Fionna let the tears fall. She cried for the future, cried for her sins, but most importantly, she cried for the dead man she had called her friend.


	20. hide and Seek

_"He knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek..."_

_-J.K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire-_

Beads of golden light streamed through the curtains of Marshall's room and danced around in a hypnotizing waltz. Fionna snuggled into the warmth of the pillows and sheets as sleep slowly escaped her.

Fionna's comfort was short lived. The bed began to violently shake and the blonde shot up in surprise only to find Marshall jumping up and down on the bed in a childish manner.

"Wake up, Fionna! Wake up! Come on! There's no time to sleep!"

Fionna felt panic rise in her chest. Had his father found out? Was he here? Were they under attack? She scrambled to form words but they got caught in her throat.

"Marshall, I-what?"

Marshall landed beside her on his knees, the bed shaking from the prior bouncing. He lightly patted her cheek and rustled her hair.

"It's Christmas! Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Wake-y, wake-y."

Fionna blinked in confusion but she began to connect what was going on in her head. That's right, it was Christmas morning. But she couldn't understand Marshall's excitement.

Marshall jumped off the bed and tore the covers off of her. Fionna was met with cold air and she sucked in a gasp through clasped teeth.

"What the hell, Marshall?" Fionna cried out as she drew her knees to her in a pathetic attempt to stay warm. Marshall landed on his knees beside her and lightly bounced, a grin plastered on his face. "It's Christmas."

"Yeah, so I've heard. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Nope."

With that, Marshall grasped Fionna around the wrist and yanked her out of the bed rather on the harsher side. He let go, went over to the dresser and fished through it for clothes. He threw items he found over his shoulder and the clothing landed everywhere.

Fionna caught what she could and tugged on a pair of pants. Marshall winked at her and slid out of the room. "Come into the study when you're ready."

The blonde huffed in agitation and finished dressing herself. The apartment was rather cold and she missed the warmth of the bed she had left behind.

Fionna trudged down the hallway and turned into the door that led to the study. A gasp penetrated her lips and she felt her eyes widen.

The Christmas tree glimmered with the lights and ornaments the three of them had set up. And beneath the bristles of the pine sat present after present wrapped in the richest of paper.

Marshall sat on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand and chatted happily away with Pierre. The raven haired man turned and grinned upon seeing the blonde. "About time! I was worried I was going to be an old man by the time you got out here."

The man stood up and motioned for Fionna to come to him. Her feet obediently picked up and she was by his side in a few strides. "Marshall...what is all this?"

"Christmas." He said nonchalantly with a shrug. Fionna felt a smile form on her lips and she lightly punched him in the arm. "I'm aware of that...but why all this?"

Marshall chuckled and took her hand in his. "Because you never had a proper Christmas before. Besides, I love Christmas. And as long as you're with me you better get used to this, babe." The man led Fionna by the hand to the gifts by the tree. "Now hurry up and open them before I open them for you."

Fionna felt herself smile as she sat down and opened the first gift she came across. Marshall picked a few up and tossed them to the peppermint butler. "These are for you, P. You've earned them."

Pierre bowed with a humble look. "Thank you, sir." He placed them on the couch and gently opened them. Fionna took out the first gift in the box and was puzzled. She held it up smiling, a confused look penetrating her eyes. "I love it Marshall...but didn't we get this last night?" She dangled the item in her fingers, recognizing the object from the store the night before.

Marshall took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, they're all what we got last night, but I wanted you to have the whole 'it's Christmas, god damn it, wake up and see what Santa got ya!' thing for once. I know it's not as exciting as it could be, but I still wanted to give you the experience." He smiled at her and Fionna couldn't help but smile back. Her heart thumped in her chest at how kind the gesture was.

The three of them spent that morning tearing apart present after present until the floor was littered with wrapping paper and bows. The sun rose in the sky and filled the room with light as it shone through the windows.

Fionna sat on the ground and gently caressed the last gift. It was a beautiful knitted headband with rubies and diamonds weaved into it. She fingered the fabric and loved how it matched the bunny beanie she wore.

Marshall stretched. His back popped and he grunted in satisfaction. The man finished the last of his coffee and Fionna felt a grumble in her stomach.

The raven haired man glanced at her, chuckled, then looked at his watch. "Perfect timing. What do you say to getting breakfast?"

"I'd say: 'it's about time!'" Fionna giggled and stood up. Marshall got up and placed the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Well, then go get some shoes on and we'll go!"

Fionna stood there confused. "What?" Marshall grinned. "Go. Get. Your. Shoes. So. We. Can. Eat."

The blonde nodded and turned to walk out of the room. She turned around once she was at the entry way. "But why?"

"Cause I'm taking you and the P-man out to town. You two deserve to get out of here for more reasons than wanting to kill my father, and since it's a family holiday I might as well treat ya guys to something." He tilted his head down and smiled at her.

Fionna smiled back and turned to leave. "Wait." Fionna turned around and was met with a sweater Marshall had gotten her thrown at her face. She let out a squeal and grabbed the item of clothing. "Put that on. It's gonna be cold out." Marshall winked at her. Fionna blushed, put on the beautiful sweater and slipped out of the room to put on her combat boots.

Once Fionna was done, she came out of the room to find Marshall and Pierre ready to go. It was odd seeing Pierre out of his usual tuxedo attire. He was dressed in dressy clothes that could pass for something that one could wear every day and a long coat hung on his body to keep the thin man warm.

Marshall looked up and smiled. He dug his hands into the pockets of a coat he must have pulled on while Fionna was gone and stood up straight. "Ready to go?"

Fionna nodded, a smile formed on her lips.

"Awesome. Let's hit it."

The three descended the elevator and to the chilly ground below. The sky was clear and snow littered the ground in a white fluffy mess. A limo was waiting patiently for them at the curb and Pierre held the door open for the young couple and himself. Once inside, the limo pulled away in the busy streets of New York City.

Fionna watched the people and buildings streak by and coudn't help but think that, for the first time in a long while, the city seemed...peaceful. Was that the magic of Christmas? Did the world magically set aside all chaos and anarchy for one day so everyone could just...live in peace?

The blonde turned from the window and glanced at the two men beside her. Marshall had his arm strung around her and she had never felt more safe in her life.

Marshall turned to Pierre. "How ya liking your Christmas gift, P?" Fionna took note of the scarf around the peppermint butler's neck. It looked brand new and she couldn't believe she had noticed it with how proud the old man looked wearing it. He rubbed his fingers on the fabric as though he couldn't believe he had such a thing around him. "I love it, sir. It's awfully kind of you to give this to me."

"No sweat, P. It's the least I could do for you." He leaned over and took part of the scarf and swung it around the older man's neck. Marshall turned to look at Fionna, a smile on his face.

"You guys are gonna love this place. It's not super fancy or anything but my mom took me to this diner a lot when I was a kid whenever dad was away with work. It's where the Mafia go to pretend we're back in the 1950's."

Fionna nodded and went back to staring out the window. A moment later, the limo pulled up to the heart of Times Square. It was rich with both Mafia members and non Mafia families, all swerving about returning gifts and spending time with family.

The door to the limo opened and the three slipped out into the frosty air. A stage stood in the plaza in front of the building that usually held where the ball would drop on New Years Eve. The ball had last dropped back in 2023, around the time the Mafia started to rise in power and destroyed the ball, marking the era of the rise of the political machines. The carcass of the ball can still be seen as a distant memory high on the building of the time where the world wasn't in shambles.

Marshall led them into a 1950's style diner. The place was crowded but had a friendly vibe. With the new clothes Fionna wore, the blonde felt for the first time she actually fit in.

The three waited until they were given a booth. Being handed a menu, Fionna read over the laminated paper and had to stop herself from drooling.

"Order whatever you want. It's on me." Marshal said as he opened up his own menu. Fionna glanced at Pierre and the old man nodded at her with a smile.

Fionna ordered what she thought sounded good and when their food came, she wanted to cry. They were served platters of pancakes and waffles, bowls of cereal and oatmeal. The food was rich and Fionna loved the smiles on the stranger's faces and never wanted the feeling of belonging she had to go away.

When they were done, Marshall payed the bill and the three left the diner behind. Fionna's stomach ached but she couldn't complain. It was a beautiful feeling.

The streets and sidewalks had become much crowded and people seemed to be attracted to the stage in the plaza. Some men stood on the stage that Fionna recognized as Hunson's men.

"Marshall, what's going on?"

"Dunno. Let's find out."

Marshall took her by the hand and led her through the crowd to where they could get a good view on what was going on. Pierre stood behind them like a protective and loyal shield.

Some of Hunson's men walk onto stage leading and shoving a handful of men onto the platform with bags over their heads. Fionna felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and held onto Marshall's hand tight. The raven haired man smiled at the stage with a sick fascination and amusement that scared Fionna.

"Marshall, can we please leave?"

"Hold on, I want to see what happens."

Fionna sighed and looked on. The men with bags on their heads were forced onto their knees and Fionna tasted bile in the back of her throat. And to both her and Marshall's shock, Hunson Abadeer himself walked onto the stage.

The crowd grew into an uncomfortable silence as the man leaned on his cane and stared out into the huddled faces. A buzz noise could be heard and Hunson's face filled the screens on all the large TVs that are placed on buildings all throughout the city.

Fionna felt her knees grow weak. She had the strong feeling that whatever was going to happen on stage was being projected to the world. Sometimes it wasn't, but when Hunson himself was there on the stage, it meant business. Business Fionna herself hoped she'd never had to see in person.

"Friends," said Hunson in a sickly welcoming tone. His voice was loud and echoed through the city thanks to a hidden mic on his person. "I'm sorry to interrupt this merry time for you all, and a merry time it is indeed. However, I have found to my dismay a betrayal in the political family."

Hunson nodded at his men and they sharply took off the bags from the heads of those tied up on stage. Fionna felt a gasp escape her lips to see a familiar face.

It was Antoine, the mobster that had threatened to take away The Tree Fort and Cake and Lorn's home away from them. The man look pale and thin, his usually neatly done hair a mess. The other men that surrounded him wore similar suits and she also recognized from Hunson's dinner the face of Cornelius Gambino, the mob boss himself.

"Ah, Cornelius...my trusted, loyal companion." Hunson walked over to the man and leaned down to be eye to eye with him. "I've given you so many warnings not to tread my waters. If you had only listened, you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be home with your wife and children..."

Cornelius spat in Hunson's face and the Godfather gave the man a long, cold look that gave Fionna chills and the crowd shift uncomfortably.

Hunson slowly rose and it was as though the world stood still. The Godfather must have pressed something on his cane, for in a blink of an eye a knife shot out from the bottom of the cane and Hunson swung the stick so fast, no one could do a thing about it.

The knife sliced Cornelius's throat and the man fell dead, face first onto the stage. Hunson took out a handkerchief and dabbed away Cornelius's spit. "Blow out their brains." His men clicked their guns and opened fire. Fionna shut her eyes, not wanting to see the bloodshed.

The submachine guns echoed through. "This is what happens to the enemy. An enemy to the Godfather. Keep this in mind and pray to your puny Gods that this won't happen to you. It's come to my attention that there is a plot to assassinate me. Any sign of rebellion towards me and you'll have a worse fate than those here on stage."

Things were so silent. Fear rose in Fionna's throat and even though her eyes were closed, she felt as though the world was staring at her. Like they knew. They had to. The blonde felt a strong arm wrap around her and take her away from the scene.

Fionna still didn't, no...couldn't open her eyes until she felt herself be forced to sit on leather and heard the sound of a door closing.

"Fi...you can open your eyes."

With much effort, Fionna found the courage to open her eyes and found herself in the comfort of the limo. Marshall rubbed her hand with his thumb and she tried to blink away what had just happened.

Fionna glanced down at herself and to her horror found tiny blood splatters on her skin and sweater. Not a lot, but it scared her knowing that it had been in a human being not that long ago. A living, breathing one...just like her.

The blonde inhaled and exhaled as she willed her body to relax. She hoped she and Marshall could end Hunson. And soon. She didn't think she could handle another execution like that again.

"We're safe, Fi."

"But how did he know?"

Marshall shrugged. "My dad's a smart guy, Fionna. I doubt he suspects us. After all, I am his 'heir.'" He snorted at the word and looked away. "Besides, I'm smarter than that fool by a million years."

Fionna swallowed her fear and nodded, an uneasy feeling built up in her chest. The drive home made her slowly forget Hunson's warning and she found herself daydreaming out the window. Marshall was right. They had this.

The limo pulled up to Marshall's place and she and Marshall got out of the car. Fionna finally noticed the absence of the peppermint butler and furrowed her brow. "Where's Pierre?"

"Said he had to run and do some last minute errands. Don't worry, he'll be back in no time. Gives us more alone time." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she lightly punched him in the arm, a smile formed on her lips and blush tickled her cheeks.

The warmth of the elevator welcomed Fionna like a long, lost friend. Her worries were left behind in their journey up to where the two lived. Life was officially perfect. She hoped Cake and Lorn had gotten their presents. She couldn't wait to see them again and hear all about their Christmas surprise.

Her and Marshall's chatter and footsteps echoed through the apartment and as they turned into the living room. Both stopped in their tracks, their chatter fading into oblivion.

Fionna felt her blood run cold as her eyes met the icy ones of Hunson Abadeer. The couch had been pushed so it was facing the door and he sat in it, legs crossed and with his men surrounding him. Their guns were ready and the room was filled with anticipated silence.

Minutes ticked by and finally the silence was broken. "Hey, Pop. Watchya doing in my neck of the woods? I didn't know you were stopping by today."

"Funny how things happen like that. How you're happily living life and an unpleasant surprise shows up. Funny. Very, very funny." The man's expression didn't waver. Fionna felt her heart drop into her stomach and had to swallow the urge to lean over and hold Marshall's hand.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that." Fionna could hear the uncertainty in Marshall's voice. For the first time since Fionna had first met him, she had never heard Marshall sound so unsure of himself. It made her even more nervous. "Well, it was nice of you to drop by, but Fionna, Pierre and I wanted to spend the rest of the day to ourselves, and-"

Hunson uncrossed his legs and kicked an object that skidded over the ground towards the couple. Fionna's eyes lowered to the ground and she suddenly felt lightheaded. It was the dropper that Fionna had used the night of the dinner. She suddenly became very aware of every gun on them, every eye staring into she and Marshal's souls and how vulnerable they really were.

"Care to explain this to me, Marshall?"

"Wow, I'm pretty sure that's the first time you used my name in months. How does it feel?"

"Answer the question."

"Never seen it before in my life."

"Good liar. Just like your old man. But if you had told the truth, I would have let you live."

"You got proof?"

"D.N.A testing, Marshall. It's a wondrous invention." Hunson lightly tapped his cane in contemplation. Fionna finally got the nerve to glance up at Marshall and was surprised to see he continued to hold onto his poker face.

"Well, it was nice to see you, Dad. The door's that way and I'm afraid Fionna and I need to get going." Marshall grabbed Fionna's arm roughly and pulled her out of the room as Hunson's men fired their guns, bullets raining through the opening and into the wall Fionna and Marshall had stood in front of moments before.

Marshall shoved her and they rushed through the halls, gun blasts following at their heels. Marshall dragged Fionna into a room and slammed the door, barricading it with a chair.

Without a moment to waste, Marshall roughly led Fionna to a picture on the wall of Mother Mary. He slid it aside to reveal a long forgotten shoot.

"Get in."

"W-What?"

Something slammed against the door and a bullet pierced the wood. Marshall shoved her towards the shoot, a tight frown on his face.

"Now!" He hissed. He lifted her up and Fionna guided her legs into the shoot. She dropped down a steep slide in complete darkness.

Fionna could hear the door break down in the far distance and the sound of someone racing down the shoot behind her. The slide took her each and every way at an uncomfortable speed. After what felt like a lifetime, she was shot out into blinding light and landed in fluff.

After her eyes adjusted, Fionna could tell she was in a giant hamper filled with cloth and foam to cushion her fall. She adjusted herself and dodged out of Marshall's way in a nick of time as she heard her boyfriend and partner shoot out of the slide moments later.

Marshall plopped himself up as he shook his head and let out a laugh. "That was fun." He crawled his way to the edge of the hamper and hoisted himself out.

Fionna blew a stray hair out of her eyes and reached out to the edge of the hamper. "Yeah...getting nearly killed is totally my idea of fun." Marshall took her arms and hoisted her out. He set her gently on the ground and she straightened her clothes. "Where are we, anyway?" The blonde looked around the room and was startled to find themselves in what looked like a garage of some sort.

"The Garage. It's where I keep the vehicles and other storage. Nice ride, right? Used to be the shoot used for laundry once upon a time ago. Had it fixed up as an escape route in case something like this happened." Marshall stepped away from Fionna and over to a large object covered in a white sheet. He pulled it off to reveal a motorcycle. "Ready to go, my lady?"

Fionna glanced from the motorcycle and back to the raven haired man. "What about your father? Where would we go?"

"To the run down apartment. Always had it set up in case this one was taken down. I know it's not as glamourous, but it'll do till we take down my dad. Now hop on." Marshall swung his leg over motor bike, turned it on and the thing came to life. Fionna took a deep breath, walked over to the motorcycle and got on.

"Here, you'll need this more than me. Trust me." Marshall handed her a helmet. She gladly put it on. It was too big, but she supposed it was better than nothing.

Marshall veered the motorcycle forward. He headed for a large door and when he came closer, he stopped and hovered his hand over a button. "Ready for this, Fi?"

Fionna could only wrap her arms around the man tighter and nodded.

"Good. Let's roll." He slammed his hand onto the button and the metal door painfully and noisily began to rise. Fionna could feel the muscles in Marshall's back flare as he waited for the right opportunity to drive.

When the garage door reached the right height, Marshall rushed the motorcycle forward and Fionna bit her lip as to not scream.

Fionna glanced past Marshall's shoulder and her heart dropped. They wouldn't make the door with the height it was at. Marshall violently veered the motorcycle so it slid almost onto it's side and limboed right under the door. Fionna kept her body close and in a ball to keep herself on the motorized bike.

The blonde could hear shouts and bullets whiz by them. Fionna could hear Marshall laugh at the men and he sped up. "Catch us if you can, suckers!" He proceeded to lift up a hand and flip them off.

Marshall sped up and Fionna closed her eyes, the wind thrashing at her skin. She heard a cry from Marshall and felt something drop onto her cheek, but she couldn't find the courage to open her eyes.

She and Marshall sped down block after block, street after street until finally he pulled into an alley. He shut the motorcycle off and he and Fionna abandoned it.

The raven haired man led the blonde through a handful of alleys until they came to a manhole. He waved her in and followed suit.

The sewers of New York City reeked, but it was better than being on the streets above. The two walked through raw sewage and the carcasses of rats and other animals that had come there to die.

Marshall stopped Fionna when they reached a certain point in the sewers. He looked up at slight light peeking through what the blonde guessed was a manhole.

The two climbed up the ladder and Marshall slightly lifted up the manhole lid and peeked out. Satisfied, he pushed aside the lid and climbed out. Fionna reached the top of the ladder and was met by Marshall's hand. Taking it, he helped lift her out of the manhole and slid the lid back into place.

Fionna blinked and was met with the view of the run down, abandoned apartment Marshall had taken her to when they first met. Seeing the building after months brought back so many memories, both good and bad. Was this really going to be their sanctuary?

Marshall took Fionna's hand and the couple walked into the building, the raven haired companion locking the front doors behind him with a key from his shoe. The blonde noticed how he seemed to slump a little in his posture but dismissed it.

Marshall turned around and wrapped his arm around Fionna's shoulders. He lightly leaned into her for support that she wasn't expecting. They ascended the stairs together as the sound of sirens, gun fire and the sort echoed through the streets of New York.

When they got to the top of the apartment complex, Marshall took out the same key and unlocked the door that the raven haired man had claimed as his own.

The green door was like an old friend welcoming them back. The place with the missing numbers seemed to blink at Fionna, as though it were saying 'oh, it's you again. Hello, long time no see!'

Marshall swung open the door and gasped. The room had been cleaned and seemed to have been prepared for their visit. The raven haired man chuckled and stood erect. "Pierre, you quick son of a bitch."

"You mean he was here before us?"

"He must have found out about my dad and knew we'd escape. He's always known what the plan would be in case of emergencies." Marshall sat down on the sheeted mattress and let out a long groan.

Fionna slipped off her shoes and felt her ankles pulse with swelling from the rough day. "But where is he now?"

"Probably getting supplies. He'll be back. Just you wait."

The blonde nodded and moved to wipe sweat from her brow. She looked at her hand and was shocked to find blood. Fionna gasped and felt her body for a wound but came up empty. She glanced at Marshall, who had now taken off his coat and finally noticed the whole in the shoulder blade of his shirt.

"Marshal, you're hurt."

Marshall shrugged and grimaced. "Nothing I'm not used to." He leaned his arm back and felt the wound with this fingers. He inhaled and squeezed his fingers into the wound and took out the bullet that had resided in his shoulder. Sweat beaded his forehead and he tossed the shell aside, inhaling and exhaling slowly. "Well, I think that's enough excitement for one day."

Fionna entered the bathroom and after a moment of searching, found a first aide kit. She sat by the raven haired man and helped him slip off his shirt. She cleaned the wound to the best of her ability and bandaged it. Fionna knew it should be stitched up, but she'd be damned before she'd allow Marshall to try to do that to himself or attempt it on her own. So until Pierre came back, her work would have to do.

The blonde leaned back and noticed Marshall's eyes droop. She placed her hand on his forehead and gently stroked away his bangs. The man closed his eyes, a sigh escaping from his lips.

Marshall placed his hand over Fionna's, opened his eyes and looked into hers. "We're safe now, Fi. No one knows we're here, so relax."

Fionna felt her shoulders relax and she smiled at the raven haired man. She traced her fingers along his eyes and jaw. "Get some sleep, Marshall. You need it."

The man merely nodded, laid back on the mattress and promptly passed out as soon as he rested his head onto the mattress.

Fionna walked over to the open front door and glanced out. Through a broken window across the way, Fionna could see the sun setting behind the city skyline. And even though it seemed as though there was no hope, Fionna felt as though she was filled with it. And with that, she shut and locked the door.


	21. Finders Keepers

_"You get hit the hardest when trying to run or hide from a problem. Like the defense on a football field, putting all focus on evading only one defender is asking to be blindsided."_

_― Criss Jami_

It had been days since Hunson kicked Fionna and Marshall out of the apartment, days since the two were forced into hiding and days since they had become the most wanted duo in America if not the world.

Marshall had spent most of the time in bed, sleeping off his wound. There had been no hide nor hair of Pierre, but a small fridge had been stocked with food that could last them a few weeks if they were careful enough. But Fionna was more concerned on where the older man could be.

Fionna had been warned not to step outside of the apartment door. Even fore a moment. They couldn't risk the danger. But sometimes when Marshall was asleep, she'd poke her head out and look out at the city. Every night, she could see she and Marshall's faces on the screens attached to the skyscrapers. She never stayed for long, but she hoped Cake and Lorn were safe.

It was New Years Eve and the sun was setting behind the skyscrapers. The days had been lonely and painful. To keep themselves from being found, Marshall refused to turn on any lights or have any candles lit. They lived off of scraps and Fionna wondered when they'd leave this life behind, end Marshall's father and finally live without the fear of being found and killed.

Fionna sighed as the sound of fireworks blasted into the sky outside of the abandoned apartment complex. She glanced up from her spot to where Marshall laid in the bed. As though sensing her gaze, he lifted his head and his eyes met hers.

Marshall motioned for her to come over to him. Fionna got up and walked over. She fell to her knees beside Marshall. The man sat up and leaned forward, their lips brushing against each others. Fionna closed her eyes and leaned in, kissing him fully.

The raven haired man brought his hand up and ran his fingers through her hair. Fionna traced her fingers up his arms and placed her hands on his bare, cold shoulders.

Fionna was pulled onto Marshall's lap and the man wrapped his arms around her. His hands slipped under her shirt and gently lifted the article of clothing off of her, briefly breaking their kiss.

The rest of Fionna's clothes found the ground and the cold air kissed her bare skin. Marshall pulled her down to the mattress, turning them around so he hovered over her and kissed her collar bone, chest, breasts and stomach.

Marshall lifted his head and captured Fionna's lips with his. As the man rocked into Fionna, the blonde couldn't help but feel that this time was different. There was sweetness besides the want of her body, a need along with the gentle kisses and caresses that showed how much the man really did care for her deep down hidden under the rough mask he wore.

Hours later, darkness had set in and Fionna's eyes had to adjust to the light that poked in from the boarded up windows thanks to the night life.

Marshall laid on her, his breath heavy with sleep. His arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace and moving from that spot was the last thing Fionna wanted to do. The fireworks had long ended and morning would be coming soon.

Fionna let her mind wander as she played with Marshall's hair. His wound sort of healed, but it didn't look good. 'Where are you, Pierre?' Even Marshall was worried over the old man's absence. He should have been there by now. But the old man was no where to be seen. And with no other communication, there was no way to know if he was safe or not.

Marshall sighed in his sleep and rolled off of the young female. She sat up, unable to sleep at all. She knew she should, but she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and drift off to slumber.

The blonde pulled some clothes on and opened the front door. Cold air rushed in and she bit her lip in attempt to keep herself from shivering.

Fionna stepped out of the safety of the apartment and walked over to the window she loved to glance at when she could every other night.

The city seemed to be asleep, yet the lights still shone on and firecrackers could still be seen going off in the streets. The giant were off and Fionna leaned against the window's frame, sighing.

She could hear footsteps come to the front door but she chose to ignore them. Fionna could feel Marshall's eyes on her back and a smile tugged at her lips.

That moment of serenity was gone when frantic footsteps ran at her and Fionna found herself being tackled out of the way of the window just as a bullet went flying in.

The blonde felt the air get knocked out of her and Marshall, who now wore jeans, propped himself up and pulled them out of harms way.

"Are you crazy? I told you to stay in the apartment!"

"I'm sorry!"

More bullets rained through the complex and Marshall ducked inside of the apartment. He came back with a bag full of supplies and clothes that he had forged together in case of an emergency. He threw Fionna her boots in which she quickly pulled them on.

The bullets had stopped and Fionna wondered if maybe their attacker left. Marshall pulled the blonde to her feet and they tip toed down the stairs, the raven haired man in the lead.

When they reached an open area, Marshall would poke his head through and glance around. The whole apartment buzzed with silence. Sometime, a bullet could be heard somewhere in the building. Sometimes up high, sometimes down low.

"Sniper." Marshall breathed in disgust. The raven haired man inched closer to a window but stayed in the shadows. Fionna stayed closed but not too close as to break his concentration. His eyes roamed the outside and finally his eyelids narrowed and lips pulled up in hatred. "Anzalone. I should have known."

A shot rang from the floor above them. Fionna unconsciously reached out and held Marshall's hand. As though remembering he wasn't alone, the man's hand clasped the blonde's. "He's completely fucking with us."

Fionna gave him a confused look. The man lead her down more stairs, safe in the comfort of the shadows. "The Anzalone line was started by Giuseppe Anzalone. He disappeared sometime in the late 1950's. The FBI thought him to be dead, but he had started a family and laid low with the Sicilian Mafia. He was hired as an assassin and preferred the shotgun 'Lupara' method. But with time, it melted into not just that but with sniper rifles as well. When the Mafia took over the states, his heirs were hired to keep political machines in control. When my father gained his status, he hired the best of the Anzalones to be his head hitman. He never lets a target get away alive."

Fionna felt herself swoon, her heart thumping in her chest. Marshall looked down at her and saw the worry written all over her face. He gave her hand a squeeze. "That is, until now. We'll get through this, Fi."

Another shot. This time in the room below. "But we have to hurry if we want to keep that promise." They quietly rushed through the complex until they came across a boarded up door.

Marshall slid his fingers under the wood and a click was heard. The wood slowly creaked open to reveal a tunnel leading into the ground.

Neither Fionna or Marshall heard the man come into the room, but the blonde was blinded by bright flashes of light as a lean figured fired into the room.

Fionna rolled out of the way and behind an abandoned red couch. Marshall darted from the man, taking out his own hand gun and fired. A bullet kissed the skin of Marshall's hand and the man dropped the gun, shouting out in pain and fell to the ground. He ducked out of the bullet's way in time, but Marshall was cornered.

Their attacker was a tall and thin man. His eyes were grey and appeared even more lifeless thanks to the black curls that boardered his face.

Marshall's gun laid on the ground inches away from her. Did she really have a chance? Their attacker must know. A skilled killer like him wouldn't make that kind of error.

Reaching over, Fionna grasped the gun and stood up. She was right. The man swung around and fired. The blonde braced for impact, closed her eyes and squeezed her own trigger. Over and over and over. She felt metal graze her skin and she heard a satisfying thump.

Fionna opened her eyes to find Marshall had the man in a choke lock. The Anzalone heir fought to breathe and fight, finally elbowing Marshall in the stomach. Anzalone swung his gun around and smacked Marshall right in the face with the butt of his rifle. She could hear her lover's nose break and she didn't hesitate. Taking aim, she lifted the gun and fired. She hit the man right in the hand. Fionna fired again. She hit his other hand.

Anzalone cried out in pain as his gun dropped to the floor. Fionna knew she could kill him right then and there, but her finger wouldn't budge. She couldn't kill him. That wasn't who she was. Fionna's mouth felt dry. 'But it will have to be that way eventually.'

Fionna shakily stuck the gun into a pocket and walked over to Marshall who clutched his nose. "Come on." She took his hand and helped him up. They raced for the tunnel, their assassin's cries following them down as they raced into darkness.

Marshall shut and locked the door behind him. Hand in hand, the two descended into the black labyrinth below, down below the city's streets where their sanctuary could be found behind the rats and forgotten sewage.


	22. Below City Streets

"You aim for the palace and get drowned in the sewer."

― Mark Twain

Below city streets, they hid. Like rats in a cage, prisoners on death row, and birds with clipped wings, they were trapped. Fionna supposed that, compared to what they could have gone through if they chose to continue living on the surface, life was great. They were alive and that was what mattered.

The damp darkness had become a safety blanket. Their eyes, with time, had adjusted to the acute blackness that now and then would be penetrated by light peeking from some manhole or drain that looked out onto the surface.

It had been a month of hiding out down there. After a while of only living off of what they had and Marshall suffering from his wounds in the unsanitary sanctuary they lived in, Fionna knew no matter what they did they were going to die either way. Whether she risked the surface or stayed below, they'd die. And it was only a matter of time before they had to choose.

Fionna glanced at the raven haired man that laid in front of her on a cardboard bed. Through the dark, she could see his chest rise and fall, sweat beaded on his forehead.

The blonde leaned over and dabbed at his forehead with a piece of cloth from her clothes and the cleanest water she could find. They had run out of food and water and already Fionna's clothes became baggy on her once more and her body was shutting down from their new way of life.

Already her stomach craved food and ate away at her muscles instead, she had lost her period like she had back when she lived with Cake and Lorn and she often got sick from the pollution in the sewers and lack of nutrients. Even Marshall's body had started to deteriorate. His once proud muscles began to lag and he often would cough up blood or be poisoned by the air and food and water they scavenged.

Fionna stopped dabbing the cloth on Marshall's head and sat up. She couldn't allow them to die like that. Anything was better than that. Even whatever Hunson had in store for them. It was better than dying as cowards.

The blonde glanced down at her lover who heavily sighed in his sleep. His hand rested on his chest and it was crusted with dried blood and ooze. She had tried to keep it clean to heal, but their dirty home prevented that from happening.

Fionna knew he wouldn't be happy with her decision, and if she failed he'd die alone down there. But she couldn't slowly watch him rot away, either.

In the bag Marshall had managed to bring with them when they escaped contained small bottles of hair dye, one was black and the other was platinum blonde. Fionna reckoned the black was meant for the grey haired butler, which made Fionna's hands grasp painfully around the dye.

In their time below the city's streets, Marshall had come to the conclusion that the peppermint butler had betrayed them. How else would the sniper have had found them? Fionna didn't want to believe the old man had done that to them but it was the only explanation that made sense. They were so careful on hiding out. It wasn't uncommon for the homeless to take refuge in abandoned places, but no one would even know they were there unless they knew beforehand.

Fionna found a place where water ran out from a pipe sticking out of the wall. The water seemed to come off as black in the dim light and the young woman held her breath and placed her head under the water.

The liquid was cold and slimy. Fionna ran the dye into her hair and scrubbed it in as well as she could. If the dye didn't work, she was sure the water would darken her hair, at least.

Fionna pulled her head away and felt the slime of the water inch down her neck and dampen her clothes. She shivered and found an old shirt to dry her hair. Black stains streaked the shirt and she sighed, worried about the job she had done.

She found a spot with water and enough light and glanced at her reflection. It was good enough. Her hair was dark and the slime had flattened her curls. She'd cut her hair, but she figured that's what Hunson would expect from her. It would be for the best to keep it long.

Fionna had cut her bangs so that they no longer were long and pushed to the side of her face. They were now an awkward curtain in front of her eyes and hid the blue and recognizable orbs.

She was ready. Well, as ready as she could be. Fionna changed into the cleanest clothes she had and tried to brush her hair to the best of her ability. It was the best she could do and honestly it probably wasn't enough, but she had to try. She couldn't let them starve to death. And that seemed way more painful than being shot until they ceased to exist.

Fionna passed by Marshall and glanced down at the man. He was deep asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. She had tried to feed him what they had, but his wounds had him struggle to eat and drink. She inhaled a deep breath and walked to the manhole she had chosen to escape through. 'This is for Marshall.'

She slid open the lid and peered out. Fionna was met with the alleyway she had discovered a week back and climbed the rest of the way out once she knew she was completely alone.

It felt weird being out in the open. Felt weird not being surrounded by human waste and garbage. Fionna breathed in the fresh air as she felt herself lightly tremble.

The teen took a deep breath and placed her foot on the sidewalk and out into the open street of New York City. People walked by her without a second glance.

Fionna waited for someone to point her out. To be tackled. To be shot at. Nothing. She let out the breath she had held back that attracted odd looks from a small gang of teenagers nearby.

She looked away and took off down the sidewalk. It was hard to fight the urge to dart into a shadowy place, to not break down on the spot from the fear of being discovered and to not act like the starving person she was upon meeting the heavenly scent of food from nearby eateries.

Fionna was glad she had chosen to go out at night. Not only did the darkness conceal her identity well, it made her hair seem more natural than dyed. And her baggy clothes created shadows on her from the lights of the city that made her seem fuller than she really was.

The first thing her mind thought about was to find food. Find something to eat that's edible and bring it back to Marshall. But now that she was out and walking with numb legs, she couldn't go back just yet.

Her legs led her through the city's streets, down alleyways and through neighborhoods until she came to the familiar building that was once known as the Tree Fort.

The neon lights weren't on and the street seemed dead. The whole area seemed dead. Fionna approached the building with nerves. It was as though the pitter patter of her footsteps were amplified in the vast silence of abandonment.

As she came closer to the nightclub, she saw a giant 'CLOSED' sign on the door. Someone had graffitied 'CLOSED' all over the windows and doors as though mocking the sign.

Fionna tried to peer into the club but was only meant with pitch darkness. The windows had been covered up with black paper from the inside that left a cold feeling in her heart. The teen pulled away and went around the side that led to the apartment above.

She tip toed up the creaking metal steps to the front door of the building. Through shattered windows, Fionna could see that the home was dark. She didn't have to go in to know that they weren't home. That they weren't coming back.

Fionna hiccuped as the tears dripped down her face. Was her sister and brotherly figure safe? Did they manage to escape? Cake had always talked about a plan to head south to New Jersey where they'd stay with a family friend if anything were to go horribly wrong with the Mafia. She wondered if that was where they were. She hoped they were there and not somewhere six feet under the ground.

The teen resisted the urge to enter the house and walked down the steps as quietly as she could. Even though it had been weeks since they had been on the run, she didn't know if there could be Hunson's men around. She didn't want to risk it. She was already risking enough as is.

Fionna dodged through the winding alleyways and away from the clubhouse. Away from the life she had only months before. It was weird to think that it hadn't even been six months since she had been just a street rat. How was it possible that she rose from being a no one, to being the girlfriend of the son of the Godfather to becoming the most wanted woman in the States? The world?

The teenager collected what she could and ran. She took bread and soap and supplies that they could use from venders and just ran. She could hear angry shouts to stop her, people try to nab at her, but she ran and never looked back.

Even when Fionna had found a manhole to hide in, she didn't really stop running until she found Marshall in the darkness. She had done it. But looking at what she got, it wasn't enough.

Fionna crept her way through the darkness, splashing in muck and God knows what that rested on the ground of the tunnels. In a matter of time, she found the spot she and Marshall had set up camp.

Marshall hadn't budged at all. His breath was shallow and was the only thing that filled the silence. Fionna tip toed over to him and gently sat down. She lifted his head to feed him the bread and some water she had managed to snag.

The man opened his crusted eyes and ate gingerly. When the water was placed to his lips, he inhaled the liquid with the thirst he had been holding back for so long. In the dim light, Fionna could see how cracked his lips were. He licked at them and lightly coughed.

Fionna used what was left of the water and used it to clean the both of them. She scrubbed at the stains on his handsome face, calloused hands and rubbed away at the grime that had built up on her. It felt nice to be clean in a way after all that time of hiding. She never thought she'd miss the poor life she had before with Cake and Lorn. That was royalty compared to she and Marshall's life in the sewers.

The blonde sighed. Cake...Lorn...where they okay? She prayed that they had managed to escape. The last thing she wanted was to discover that they had been tortured and or killed during the time of their hiding.

Marshall weakly sat up and Fionna attempted to gently push him back down but he refused. He lightly shook his head and lightly hissed at the pain in his body.

"I want to go to the surface."

Fionna felt her lips tremble and she licked at them, feeling how cracked they were.

"Are you sure?" Her voice came out as a whisper.

The sound of heavy breathing was the only thing that filled the silence. She listened to it, waiting for an answer.

"...yes. I need to see the world for myself. If I die up there, fine. But I refuse to die down here. Not like this..."

Fionna nodded. Marshall struggled with finding his strength. The blonde reached over and helped him up, feeling his weight against her tiny frame.

He slumped against her and wrapped his arm around her for support. It was painful...but if this would ease Marshall's mind, then so be it.

Fionna led him over to the stream she had used to dye her hair and helped rub the dyes into Marshall's. She mixed the blonde and black that eventually became a light brown. She figured if he went blonde, it'd be more noticeable in the crowd. She could only imagine what it must be like to be walking around right then on the surface with lighter hair. Did people get turned in thinking others thought they were her? Did anyone die for being mistaken for Fionna?

When Marshall was done, she used an old sweater to partially dry his hair, careful to not rub out her hard work. He leaned against her once more as he stood and she led him to the manhole she had found.

They climbed to the surface and it almost hurt to hear Marshall gasp as he inhaled the cold night air of New York City. Although it wasn't exactly the cleanest, it was fresh compared to the hell he had been inhaling for the past month.

Fionna took his hand and helped him out. They closed the lid and stepped out from the alleyway. Everyone barely blinked at them as they stood as a couple for the first time out in the open. She clung to his hand and they kept close.

Marshall chose a direction and they began to move. Fionna prayed that no one would notice the sewer smell on them. Notice how disoriented they were. But the mobsters were on the prowl tonight and no one wanted to be caught making eye contact. Not while there were delinquents to the Godfather on the loose...

Walking down a few blocks, they stepped into a wide gap between the skyscrapers. Fionna wondered why it had looked so familiar. Then it hit her: it was Times Square. Well...sort of.

It wasn't how she had remembered. Everywhere, on all the billboards and , the screens that had either been broken from time or used to have a shadow of an ad for a musical that hadn't been on for the past hundred years flashed she and Marshall's faces. Sometimes it was just her...sometimes it was just him...and other times it was them together. The notices flashed their information and even a bounty that was over their heads.

Fionna clutched at Marshall's sleeve as a shiver went up her spine. Suddenly, going back to the sewer didn't sound like such a bad idea to her.

Even the friendly stores for the bourgeoisie had cleared out. The once active stores now sat in ruin. The whole area had been made to be one giant piece of propoganda about them. The glamours side of the Mafia no longer lingered in the square. People like how she used to be and worse off wandered the streets instead. Everything seemed dark. Dimly lit. Abandoned...

'Bzzt!' The began to turn off one by one and the stage a ways off was lit up with stadium lights. Fionna could see the dark stains of previous slaughters in the wood, black like the shadow of a memory.

The people walking around stopped and began to go towards the lit stage like gnats drawn to a lamp. Even Marshall took a step forward and Fionna had no choice but to follow.

Figures stood on the stage and a crowd began to quickly gather. Fionna squinted, trying to see who the unfortunate soul was that night. But with how tired her eyes were from being strained in the darkness of the sewers, she couldn't tell.

The flickered back on and Fionna gasped. The old, sweet face of Pierre filled the screen. He looked tired but he tried to smile the bags under his eyes away. His face looked thin and his clothes were baggy.

Fionna's anger towards him quickly disappeared. Why was he there? He shouldn't be there. He had betrayed them...didn't he? But why did he look so...beat up? Worn out?

The young woman could even feel Marshall's surprise to seeing the butler on stage. Hunson's men stood all over the place, guns ready.

Pierre continued to smile as though he were at a tea party, his dark eyes slowly searched the crowd. Was he trying to find them? Did he know they were there?

Fionna expected one of Hunson's right hand men to come on stage, but instead, Marshall's father graced the audience himself. She could hear the light gasps of the people and the crowd seemed to fidget, some wanting to leave but only continued to stand there in fear of being killed.

Pierre was forced onto his knees but the old man didn't let that ruin his smile. Hunson slowly made his way over to the old man and looked at him with disgust. Fionna wanted to spit on the rich vest, button up shirt and dress pants Marsahll's father wore. It was as though he was mocking the once nicely dressed butler and Fionna hated it.

Hunson's cold eyes glanced up at the crowd as though he could sense their fear. Smelled it...Fionna knew every person in America was probably watching this. She could imagine people all over waking up their loved ones to watch the important message the Godfather had to say. 'Had he found the two rebels yet? Was this the end? What's going on?'

"My apologies to wake you at such an unholy hour, my friends. I'm aware that you all have left the warmth of your beds to listen to what I have to say and I promise with the bottom of my heart that this will not take long and you can return to the comfort of your blankets once I have finished what I have to say."

Fionna's eyes followed him as he lightly paced the stage. His calmness made her knees shake. He turned to Pierre when he finished talking and slammed his foot into the old man's back, grabbed his hair and yanked the butler's head back.

"This man had affiliated with my son and his love for the longest time. Only now had he been uncovered hiding like the coward he was in the basement of an unknowing family. We believed that, where this man was, so would be the two that are out to kill me. But no. He was alone and refused to say anything throughout the day. He braved torture, isolation...and said nothing. This is a very foolish man. Gaze upon him and pray that you never become like him. Men like him will be humanity's downfall. Men like him are the reason why we left the old world behind. His ignorance is intolerable and will not be accepted."

Hunson let Pierre go and the old man gasped from the pain. Fionna felt tears in her eyes. He didn't deserve it. She took back everything she had said about him for the past month. He didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve the humiliation and pain.

The Godfather took out a pistol from behind his back that had been wedged into his belt. He took a single bullet from his pocket, placed it in the barrel and clicked it in place.

"Any last words, old man? You can still confess their whereabouts while you still can. They can run but they can't hide." Hunson held the gun to Pierre's head. "Don't be foolish, old man. May your final words ease the want to give them away in your heart. Die a hero, not a fool."

Pierre licked his lips, his eyes shining with something Fionna couldn't quite place. His smile grew on his lips and he gazed up at the sky, eyes lost in the vastness of nothing.

"Fire."

The gunshot rang through the square. Fionna felt her body lock into shock and began to open her mouth to scream. Marshall pulled her to him and dipped her into a kiss. They kissed to conceal their pain, kissed to leave the night behind, but most importantly, they kissed to drown out the hate and violence that surrounded a corrupted world.


End file.
